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Book ,AjA 

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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



"LITERATURE IS THE IMMORTALITY OF SFEECH r-Wilmott 



STUDIES 

IN 

AMERICAN AND BRITISH 
LITERATURE 



BY 

INEZ N. McFEE 



CHICAGO 

A . FLANAGAN COMPANY 



LITERATURE IS THE THOUGHT OF THINKING SOULS '-Carlyle 



UBHARYof C0N6R?S~S| 
Tvrc Copies Recelvtjcf ; 

OCT 2 190? 

Copyriffht Entry 
Oct 2^ f^^'l 
CLASS 4 XXc, No, 

COPY B. 



Copyright 1905 

BY 

A. FLANAGAN COMPANY 



The object of literature in education is to open the mind, 
to correct it, to refine it, to enable it to comprehend and 
digest its knowledge, to give it power over its faculties, 
application, flexibility, method, critical exactness, sagacity, 
address and expression. 

— John Henry Newman. 

All the arts are dwarfed by the power of literature. 
Each other art can express only some part of the mind; 
music a part, architecture a part, painting a part, but 
literature can express all the thoughts and emotions of the 
entire spirit. And this art one can carry with him when 
he travels ; it can flourish in one little room. It depends 
not upon wealth or house or gallery, but where the mind 
has a common education there this art can find its home. 

— Professor Swing. 

To love the best literature is to possess the truest and 
most imperishable of earthly riches. Such a love gives to 
the young what they most need. It creates and sustains 
high and beautiful ideals of human life, gives them the 
choicest companions and truest friends, and enlarges their 
mental and spiritual horizon. It enables them to keep the 
keen appreciation, sweet trustfulness, and beautiful sim- 
plicity of childhood, while it multiplies both their powers 
or usefulness and sources of happiness. 

— Frank V. Irish. 



ACKNOWLEDGMENTS. 



We wish to here make fitting acknowledgment of the 
kindness and encouragement of the various pubHsher$ 
who have kindly allowed the use of selections from their 
authorized works. 

The selections from the writings of John Greenleaf 
Whittier, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, James Russell 
Lowell, Ralph Waldo Emerson, OHver Wendell Holmes, 
Alice and Phoebe Gary, and Lucy Larcom are used by 
permission of and by special arrangement with Hough- 
ton, Mifflin & Go., the authorized publishers of the writ- 
ings of these authors. 

The selections from Bryant are used by permission of 
and by special arrangement with D. Appleton & Go., and 
the other copyrighted selections by the kind permission of 
Harper & Brothers, Little, Brown & Go., The Bobbs-Mer- 
rill Go., The Whitaker & Ray Go., The J. B. Lippincott 
Go. and Herbert Stone & Go., to all of whom the author 
desires to express grateful appreciation of their kindness 
and courtesy. 



iv 



INTRODUCTION. 



The teacher who fails to give a large share of time and atten- 
tion to the careful memorizing, the study, and the enjoyment of 
fine things in literature is woefully at fault. The boy or girl 
who has been at school for six or eight years should go out into 
life with a wealth of good things in literature securely lodged in 
the memory, that shall mould his taste, give color to his thought, 
and influence his daily life. — J. P. McCaskey. 

THIS book of Studies in American and British Litera- 
ture has been carefully prepared with the hope 
that it may aid teachers in giving color as well as form 
to their work in literature, and that it may help to mould 
and lodge exquisite bits of literature in the memory of the 
pupil that will cheer and brighten all his life. The prin- 
cipal aim has been to present a logical plan which will 
enable the pupil to appreciate all that is good in literature, 
to assist him to express himself clearly and intelligently, 
and, best of all, to give him abundant food for thought. 
"The man who loves good reading has in his own being 
a spring of never failing joy ; there are no lonely hours, 
no monotonous days for such a person. Raging storms 
and snow-bound earth may shut out living companion- 
ship, but these circumstances only serve to bring him into 
nearer communion with the authors he loves.'' 

All selections from the works of the various authors 
have been carefully taken, and great care has been exer- 
cised to make all information authentic. There is much 

V 



vi 



INTRODUCTION 



in the directions for the study of the various selections 
that may justly be termed work in English, and, where 
the school course is crowded, this work in Literature may 
well occupy a considerable part of the time usually given 
to Grammar and Rhetoric. Remember pupils do not 
learn to construct good sentences- by analyzing, or by 
memorizing and repeating the rules of syntax, though 
the method be followed until they grow gray. Many of 
our best writers never studied the art of composition; 
but they read a multitude of the best books, and had the 
faculty of learning how to compose by studying the com- 
position of others while they, at the same time, culti- 
vated their taste and added to their general stock of in- 
formation. 

This book is, therefore, sent forth with the conviction 
that its suggestions will receive a hearty welcome, and 
that the choice thoughts from the best writers which have 
been generously scattered throughout its pages, will sur- 
prise, delight and bless like rare wild flowers cropping up 
in unlocked for places. 

Inez N. M'Fee, 
Liscomb, Iowa. 



HINTS TO TEACHERS. 



I need not tell you that you will find that most books worth 
reading once are worth reading twice ; and, what is most important 
of all, the masterpieces of literature are worth reading a thousand 
times. It is a great mistake to think that because you have read 
a masterpiece once or twice, or ten times, therefore you are done 
with it; because it is a masterpiece, you ought to live with it, and 
make it a part of your daily life. — John Morley. 

Your great object should be to be thorough; to learn but a 
little at a time, but to learn that little well. A very short poem, 
thoroughly comprehended in all its parts, will do to make a begin- 
ning upon. Any lesson of this sort that is really well learnt is 
a piece of solid work done ; it serves for a stepping-stone to the 
next piece. — TV. W. Skeat. 

THE STUDY of Literature more than all other studies 
best equips our pupils for successful living. "It is 
well that the pupils learn square and cube root, but such 
knowledge will never bring to the soul the yearning for 
higher, holier living aroused by the reading of the Cham- 
bered Nautilus. Newton's laws of gravitation may teach 
us of the unseen force that binds together molecules, but 
such productions as the Vision of Sir Launfal alone can 
set us a-searching for the silken chain that tells of the 
universal brotherhood of man. With Cuvier we may 
learn how to classify and arrange all animate life, but 
such poems as Shelly's Ode to the Sky Lark are needed 
to bear us above the under stratum of care and reveal to 
us the security of those who have scaled the heights." 

vii 



Vlll 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



Among the many advantages which are to be gained 
from the right study of Hterature, the following are men- 
tioned : — 

1. It increases the pupil's vocabulary. 

2. It gives ease and readiness of expression. 

3. It teaches the correct use of English, 

4. It creates a desire to become better informed. 

5. It gives occupation for idle moments. 

6. It cultivates a love for good literature. 

7. It stores the mind with choice thoughts. 

8. It elevates the moral tone, and incites emulation of 
the good. 

9. It strengthens against evil propensities, and broad- 
ens personal responsibilities. 

10. It lays the foundation to right thinking, and helps 
to build up a stable character. 

There is probably no subject taught which is more 
likely to lapse into a stultifying monotony when permitted 
to do so. neither is there one that can be rendered more 
interesting or inspiring than literature when handled by 
a skillful teacher. To do successful work the teacher 
must know and love the authors he attempts to teach. He 
must be filled to overflowing with their choicest thoughts, 
and be able to converse entertainingly about all that is 
noble and beautiful in their life and character, and, above 
all, he must be able to tell interesting bits of the various 
tales and romances of the best authors which will incite 
his pupils to a longing for more of them and for a desire 
to get such a knowledge for themselves by delving deep 
into the best books. 

Do not pay too much attention to biography ; facts 
about an author are of minor importance, and should be 



HINTS TO TEACHEES 



IX 



used only to lead to an appreciation (^f his best writing 
and his noblest traits of character. In general, the biog- 
raph}' may well be left until after one or two of the 
author's best poems have been read or studied, and some 
desire to know about the author has been created. In the 
following pages, we have placed the biography first in 
order to preserve due logical order. We would, how- 
ever, advise passing it over until some of the selections 
have been studied. This need not be done with such au- 
thors as Longfellow, Whittier and others who have been 
familiar to the pupils ever since they entered the Second 
Primary. 

We know that if the directions in the following pages 
are carefully followed the literature work wall be a suc- 
cess, for we have faithfully tested them in class work. 
We would here place special emphasis on the value of 
memorizing choice portions in order that the mind may 
have, stored away, pictures that may at pleasure be called 
up to refresh and entertain. 

Ask parents and pupils to aid in helping to put the best 
books in the school library. There are many ways in 
which you can raise library funds. Every school should 
have the complete poems of Longfellow, Whittier, Bryant, 
and other poets mentioned in the following pages ; they 
should also have the masterpieces from Irving, Haw- 
thorne, Dickens, Scott, and other writers. Where it is 
impossible to have all these, a careful search of the neigh- 
borhood will probably bring to light the books necessary 
to follow the course in literature which we have marked 
out. We believe no teacher will need to omit any part of 
the work because he can not find the necessary naaterial. 
We have tried to overcome this difficulty by giving as 



X 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITEEATUEE 



many selections as possible from the various authors, and 
we believe the teacher can readily supplement our list 
with good selections from old school readers, etc. In 
studying the various authors, encourage the pupils to 
bring in good anecdotes about them. Old files of the 
Youth's Companion will yield an abundance of these. 

Urge each pupil to start a library of his own, adding 
choice books as he can. Teach them to feel that : "There 
is nothing so unhomelike as a bookless home, unless it is 
a house whose books betray a vulgar and narrow con- 
ception of life. A man's books form an average portrait 
of himself. Without books, a merchant's palace becomes 
but a prison, the 'trail of the upholsterer is over it all,' 
while a small library well-selected may, like Alladin's 
lamp, turn the abode of poverty to a princely home." 

As a final hint, we wish to again urge that the principal 
objects to be gained by literature study should be kept 
continually in the mind of the teacher, viz. : '*to fill the 
pupil's mind with a love for the good, the true, the beau- 
tiful, in literature, and so train his mind that he can dis- 
criminate between the good and the bad, the true and the 
false, that he will naturally reject all that is worthless and 
seize upon the lovely and the pure. 

It is from the men and women bred on American soil 
that the fittest words come for the enrichment of Amer- 
ican youth. I believe heartily in the advantage of enlarg- 
ing one's horizon by taking in other climes and other ages, 
but first let us make sure of the great expansive power 
which lies close at hand. I am sure ther^ never was a 
time or country when national education, under the guid- 
ance of national art and thought, was so possible as in 
America today." — Scudder. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

INTRODUCTION V 

HINTS TO TEACHERS vii 

Chapter I. 

the great poets of america i 

Chapter 11. 

SOME popular poets OF LATER DAY 163 

Chapter III. 

OUR EARLIEST NOVELISTS 205 

Chapter IV. 

SOME early WOMEN NOVELISTS AND POETS 255 

Chapter V. 

other AMERICAN WRITERS WE SHOULD KNOW 3O7 

Chapter VI. 

HUMOROUS WRITERS 247 

Chapter VII. 

THE GREAT BRITISH POETS 369 

Chapter VIII. 

OTHER FAMOUS BRITISH POETS 437 

Chapter IX. 

FAMOUS EARLY ENGLISH NOVELISTS 467 

Chapter X. 

BRITISH HISTORIANS AND ESSAYISTS 5II 

xi 



Great books are the great souls which have left the 
bodies of great beings and have come to talk with us. You 
have never seen Homer or Virgil or Dante or Mrs. Brown- 
ing, but in their words their souls have come to you in 
the morning and at night. You can live with these illus- 
trious ones and thus possess the never failing sources of a 
great happiness.— Pro/. Swing, 

My object throughout the class-room study of English 
literature would be to cultivate an intelligent appreciation, 
a positive love, for those treasures of genius, those master- 
pieces of literary art, which are embodied in our mother 
tongue; such a love as would be a delight, a sustaining, 
comforting, resiraining influence throughout life. — Gilmore 



I 



AMERICAN LITERATURE. 



Think for a moment of tliat great, silent, resistless power for 
good that might at this moment be lifting the youth of our 
country, were the hours for reading in school expended upon the 
undying, life-giving books! Think of the substantial growth of a 
generous Americanism w-ere the boys and girls fed from the fresh 
springs of American literature. — Selected. 

Poetry is rhythmical, imaginative language, expressing the in- 
vention, taste, thought, passion, and insight of the human soul. 

— Stedman. 

CHAPTER 1. 



THE GREAT POETS OF AMERICA. 

Poetry is itself a thing of God ; 

He made his prophets poets, and the more 

We feel of poesie do we become 

Like God in love and power. 

— Bailey. 



Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 
John Greenleaf Whittier. 
James Russell Lowell. 
William Cullen Bryant. 
Ralph Waldo Emerson. 
Oliver Wendell Holmes. 
^ Edgar Allan Poe. 

There are so many tender and* holy emotions flying about in 
our inward world, which, like angels, can never assume the body 
of an outward; so many rich and lovely flowers spring up which 
bear no seed, that it is a happiness poetry was invented, which 
receives into its limbus all these incorporeal spirits, and the per- 
fume of all these flowers, — Jean Paul. 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 



1807—1882. 

"The American Poet Laureate.' ^ 

"The poet of the home.'' 
"The poet of the commonplace." 

Longfellow has composed poems which will live as long as the 
language in which they are written. 

^ James Eussell Lowell. 

Ah! gentlest soul! how gracious, how benign 
Breathes through our troubled life that voice of thine, 
Filled with a sweetness born of happier spheres, 
That wins and warms, that kindles, softens, cheers, 
That calms the wildest woe and stays the bitterest tears! 

—0. W. Holmes. 

LONGFELLOW is the universal favorite and the most 
widely read of all the American poets. Every sen- 
tence that he penned is as clear as crystal and as pure as 
snow. ''Few of the vast multitude who have learned to 
love Longfellow through his songe ever saw the face of 
this 'gentlest soul,' or were ever gladdened by hearing 
that voice, 'filled with sweetness,' 'that wins and warms, 
that kindles, softens, cheers' ; yet have not all our hearts 
been made more tender and sympathetic as we wandered 
and wept with the gentle Evangeline?" And again, who 
has not been filled with a desire to be like gentle, schol- 
arly John Alden, or simply true-hearted and womanly 
like Priscilla, the gentle Puritan maiden, whose sweet lipS' 
framed such wonderful words of quiet wisdom, — 

3 



■4 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITEEATUEE 

"Let US, then, be what we are, and speak what we think, 

and in all things 
Keep ourselves loyal to truth and the sacred professions 

of friendship." 

He has perhaps touched more heroic chords in our 
nature than any other poet. His Psalm of Life breathes 
new courage into our hearts, helps us to bind up our scat- 
tering sheaves and strike out with renewed purpose. 

Life is real! Life is earnest! 

And the grave is not its goal; 
* ' Dust thou art, to dust returnest, ' ' 

Was not spoken of the soul. 

***** 

Let us, then, be up and doing, 

With a heart for any fate; 
Still achieving, still pursuing, 

Learn to labor and to M^ait. 

Excelsior, The Builders, etc., appeal to the kingly vir- 
tues of heroic endeavor and self-reliance ; while such 
poems as The Arrow and the Song and Santa Filomena 
inspire us to beautiful and noble deeds, for 

Whene'er a noble deed is wrought, 
Whene 'er is spoken a noble thought, 

Our hearts, in glad surprise. 

To higher levels rise. 

What American, on reading his beautiful, patriotic 
lines. The Building of the Ship, has not been thrilled with 
a truer, deeper love for his country ? 

Thou, too, sail on, O ship of State! 

Sail on, O UNION, strong and great ! 
Humanity with all its fears. 
With all the hopes of future years, 

Is hanging breathless on thy fate ! 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 



5 



The poet was a dear lover of children, who "with their 
hearts full of sunshine and the songs of birds are to the 
world as leaves to the forest." His poems, The Children, 
The Old Clock on the Stairs, My Arm Chair, etc., have 
made him one of their favorite writers. James Whit- 
comk Riley thus describes Longfellow's love for chil- 
dren. — 

Awake he loved their voices 

And wove them into his rhyme, 
And the music of their laughter 

Was with him all the, time. 

Though he knew the tongues of nations 
And their meanings all were dear, 

Yet the prattle and lisp of a little child 
Was the sweetest for him to hear. 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was born in Portland, 
Maine, February 27, 1807. He was of Puritan descent, 
inheriting, on the maternal side, the blood of four May- 
flower Pilgrims, among whom was John Alden, made 
famous in the Courtship of Miles Standish. His father, 
an eminent lawyer of Portland and a graduate of Har- 
vard, was a man of high scholarly gifts and was reputed 
for his purity of life. His mother possessed rare charms 
of beauty, was very fond of music and poetry and a de- 
voted lover of nature. In his poem, My Lost Youth, the 
poet describes his childhood home : — 

Often I think of the beautiful town 

That is seated by the sea, — 
♦ ♦ * * * « 

I remember the black wharves and the aliips 

And the sea tides tossing free, 
And the Spanish sailors with bearded lips, 



6 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



And the beauty and mystery of the ships, 

And the magic of the sea. 
* * * * * •» 

I can see the breezy dome of groves, 

The shadows of Deering's woods; 
And the friendships old and the early loves 
Come back with the Sabbath sound, as of doves 

In quiet neighborhoods, 
And the verse of that sweet old song. 

It flutters and murmurs still: 

"A boy's will is the wind's will, 
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts. " 

Young Henry had three brothers and four sisters for 
his playmates, and merry times they had together. He 
was very fond of his brother Stephen and frequently ac- 
companied him on hunting expeditions. One day when 
they were out Henry shot a robin, and he was so dis- 
tressed because he had taken a harmless life which he 
could not give back that he registered a vow never to 
take part in that kind of sport again. He never cared 
for any kind of rude sports. Thus early in childhood he 
showed the qualities which characterized his whole life — 
tenderness, gentleness, and a refined taste. He was a very 
precocious child, and at the age of seven was half 
through his Latin grammar. His first poem, The Battle 
of Lovell's Pond, a scene near his grandfather's home, 
where a battle with the Indians had taken place, was 
written when he was thirteen. On the suggestion of a 
sister, it was privately sent to the Portland Gazette. We 
can imagine how eagerly the children watched for the 
appearance of the paper, and how delighted they were 
when the poem came out in all the glories of its print 
dress ! And, again, we imagine how broken-hearted the 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 



7 



young poet felt when his verses were unkindly criticised 
a few days later ! 

At the age of fourteen, Longfellow entered Bowdoin 
College. He graduated four years later, in the same 
class with Nathaniel Hawthorne. Shortly after gradua- 
tion, he was appointed professor of modern language in 
Bowdoin, and was allowed a leave of absence to continue 
his studies. After four years of study and travel through 
France, Spain, Italy, Germany and England, he entered 
upon his new labors in 1829. Here he remained in the 
beautiful old college town of Brunswick, growing in repu- 
tation, broadening in culture, for five years, when he was 
elected to fill a similar position in Harvard. Already an 
eminent scholar and master of many languages, he aspired 
to still greater learning, and visited Europe for the pur- 
pose of acquainting himself with the Scandinavian lan- 
guage and literature. On this voyage he sustained his 
first great misfortune. After visiting many noted Euro- 
pean cities, and spending a delightful summer at Copen- 
hagen and Stockholm, while on their way to Germany, 
Mrs. Longfellow, a wife of three years, was taken ill and 
passed away after a few days' illness at Rotterdam in the 
latter part of November. Longfellow describes this 
beautiful young wife as the "Being Beauteous" in his 
tender poem The Footsteps of Angels. 

Longfellow wandered sorrowfully about in Europe for 
some time. While traveling in Switzerland the following 
summer, he came across a tablet containing an inscription 
which he made the motto of Hyperion and of his future 
life : "Look not mournfully into the Past. It comes not 
back again. Wisely improve the Present. It is thine. 
Go forth to meet the shadowy Future, without fear, and 



8 



STUDIES IX AMERICAN LITERATURE 



with a manly heart." On this journey too, he met Miss 
Frances Appleton, a Boston lady, and made her the 
heroine, "Mary Anburton," himself being the hero, ''Paul 
Flemming," in his delightful romance, Hyperion. Re- 
turning to his work at Harvard in the fall of 1836, he 
sought lodgings in the old Craigie House, and his land- 
lady proudly gave him the very room which George 
Washington had occupied when he made the place his 
headquarters in the early Revolutionary days. The 
teacher-poet was sad and lonely and often thought of 
the delightful companionship of the beautiful, cultivated 
Miss Appleton. He renewed their acquaintance, soon 
became a devoted lover, and made her his wife seven 
years after their first meeting in a foreign land. Mr. Ap- 
pleton purchased Craigie House and gave it to Mr. and 
Mrs. Longfellow for a wedding present. It was his 
home for over forty years. The Longfellow children had 
the old historic room for their nursery. 

Craigie House had spacious rooms on either side the 
broad wainscoted hall. A grand stairway with low, 
broad steps led to the upper rooms. Great open fire- 
places piled high with crackling logs lent a genial warmth 
to the luxurious, comfortable home. Not far away was 
historic Elmwood, the home of Longfellow's life-long 
poet-friend, James Russell Lowell. The windows of 
both houses af¥orded a fine view of the River Charles, 
and the quiet, peaceful surroundings furnished oppor- 
tunity for study and writing. Many an inspiration came 
to the neighbor poets from their home surroundings, and 
the birds, trees and flowers. Longfellow did not know 
the birds and flowers so well as his friend, yet he shows 
his love for them in many of his poems. In The Herons 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 



9 



of Elmwaod he tells about the birds he loved to watch at 
the Lowell home : • 

Silent are all the sounds of day; 

Nothing I hear but the chirp of crickets, 
And the cry of the herons winging their way 

O'er the poet's house in the Elmwood thickets. 

Longfellow's library was a grand old room, surrounded 
with book shelves filled to overflowing with books, let- 
ters and manuscripts. always received his friends 
here, but he did his writing in a small study overhead. 
His desk and armchair, with the tall, old-fashioned clock 
just behind it, stood in a corner of the room near a bright 
window overlooking the grassy slope beneath. It was to 
this room that his children loved to come for a romp, "be- 
tween the dark and the daylight," when their father's day 
was done. He tells us about this in his poem, The Chil- 
dren's Hour. 

Longfellow and his wife spent eighteen years of 
precious home life happy in the possession of five lovely 
children, a multitude of the choicest friends, honor and 
fame, and then in the midst of their happiness came the 
tragic death of Mrs. Longfellow. While seated in the 
library Avith her two little daughters, engaged in sealing 
up small packets of their curls which she had just cut off, 
a match on the floor ignited her light summer dress. She 
was severely burned, and died the next morning. Long- 
fellow received some very severe burns in trying to put 
out the flames, and was confined to his room when her 
burial took place three days later. It was the anniver- 
sary of her wedding-day, and some one crowned the 
beautiful head with a wreath of orange blossoms. The 
poet never ceased to mourn for his devoted wife. Some 



10 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



years after he wrote in his journal : 'The gHmmer of 
the golden leaves in the sunshine; the lilac hedge shot 
with the crimson creeper ; the river writing its S in the 
meadow; everything without full of loveliness. But 
within me the hunger, the famine of the heart !" He was 
much cheered in his sadness by his children and by his 
loved friends. He tells us of three of these, Sumner, 
Felton, and Agassiz, who had ''gone before," in his beau- 
tiful sonnet, Three Friends of Mine: 

I also wait; but they will come no more, 
Those friends of mine, whose presence satisfied 
The thirst and hunger of my heart. Ah me! 

They have forgotten the pathway to my door! 
Something is gone from nature since they died, 
And summer is not summer, nor can be. 

Of Sumner, that dearest of all friends, he wrote : 

Good night! good night! as we so oft have said 
Beneath this roof at midnight, in the days 
That are no more, and shall no more return. 

Thou hast but taken thy lamp and gone to bed; 
I stay a little longer, as one stays 
To cover up the embers that still burn. 

On his seventy-second birthday, the children of Cam- 
bridge, who all loved him and often visited him in his 
home, made him a present of a large arm chair made 
from the branches of the "spreading chestnut tree." It 
was ebonized, or blackened, and carved all over with 
horse-chestnut leaves, blossoms and burrs. The seat 
and arms had cushions of green leather, and around the 
seat were the words, in raised letters, — 

And children coming home from school, 
Look in at the open door, 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW n 



And catch the burning sparks that fly 
Like chaff from the threshing floor. 

Mr. Longfellow was so pleased with the gift that he 
at once wrote a poem about it, in which he asks : 

Am I a king that I should call my own 

This splendid ebon throne? 

***** 

Only because the spreading chestnut tree 

Of old was sung by me. ' 

And again : 

The heart hath its own memory, like the mind, 
And in it are enshrined 

The precious keepsakes, into which is wrought 
The giver's loving thought. 

Father Time dealt kindly with Longfellow. He lived 
longer than the allotted three score years and ten, but 
his heart remained young and he sang sweetly to the last. 
His last poem, The Bells of San Bias, with its closing 
words so full of hope and cheer and full reward, were 
eminently fitting to be the last words of the sweet, gentle 
singer who had brought so much sunshine and music into 
earthly homes : 

Out of the shadows of night, 
The world rolls into light; 
It is daybreak everywhere. 

One week later, March 24, 1882, the poet passed from 
earth like ''the ceasing of exquisite music," having fully 
realized the prayer breathed for him by his loved friend, 
James Russell Lowell : 

Long days be his, and each as lusty-sweet 
As gracious natures find his song to be; 



13 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITEEATURE 



May Age steal on with softly-cadenced feet 
Falling in music, as for him were meet 
Whose choicest verse is harsher-toned than he! 

Funeral services were conducted by his brother, Sam- 
uel Longfellow, on March 26, in the presence of many 
dear friends, among whom being Emerson, Holmes, 
Lowell, Whittier and many other noted persons. The 
body was borne to Mt. Auburn and lovingly laid to rest 
beside the loved wife whom he had mourned for over 
twenty years. After the burial memorial services were 
held in Appleton Chapel. Two years later a bust of 
Longfellow was placed in the Poets' Corner of West- 
minster Abbey beside the grave of Chaucer, the Father 
of English Poetry. 

Longfellow "was of medium height, well made, with 
no sign of age in figure or walk. His head and face were 
eminently poetic, his forehead broad and full. The 
great charm of his face centered in his eyes; of an un- 
clouded blue, deep set, under overhanging brows, they 
had an indescribable expression of thought and tender- 
ness. Though seamed with many wrinkles, his face was 
rarely without the rosy hue of health, and appeared that 
of a much younger man, but for its frame of snow-white 
hair. Hair and whiskers were long, abundant, and wavy, 
and gave the poet the look of a patriarch." 

MEMORY OEMS FROM LONGFELLOW. 

(Pupils should learn a gem each day. They should be encour- 
aged to search for them. Have the pupils find the following 
quotations in Longfellow's writings.) 

"Lives of great men all remind us 
We can make our lives sublime, 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 13 



And departing, leave behind us 
Foot-prints on the sands of time." 

"Out of shadows of night 
The world rolls into light; 
It is day-break everywhere." 

"Not in the clamor of the crowded street, 

Not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, 
But in ourselves are triumph and defeat." 

"God is still God, and 

His faith shall not fail us ; 

Christ is eternal." 

"For 'tis sweet to stammer one letter 
Of the Eternal's language ; on earth it is called 
Forgiveness." 

"Each man's chimney is his Golden Milestone; 
Is the central point from which he measures every dis- 
tance 

Through the gateways of the world around him." 
"Love is sunshine, hate is shadow." 

"Let nothing disturb thee, 
Nothing affright thee; 
All things are passing, 
God never changeth." 

"Oh fear not in a world like this 
And thou shalt know ere long, 

Know how sublime a thing it is 
To suffer and be strong." 



14 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



''Whene'er a noble deed is wrought, 
Whene'er is spoke a noble thought, 

Our hearts in glad surprise 

To higher levels rise." 

(Note that these quotations form a Longfellow Acros- 
tic. They may be used in connection with a Longfellow 
Program which it would be well to give after the class 
have completed the study of the poet. Copies of the 
Program should be written on the backs of Longfellow's 
pictures (Perry Picture) and distributed as souvenirs.) 

A PARTIAL LIST OF LONGFELLOw's WORKS FOR REFERENCE. 

Evangeline. Endymion. 

Hiawatha. The Goblet of Life. 

Footsteps of Angels. The Quadroon Girl. 
The Slave in the Dismal Swamp. Morituri Salutamus. 

The Reaper and the Flowers. The Golden Legend. 

The Beleaguered City. Psalm of Life. 

The Skeleton in Armor. The Slave's Dream. 

The Luck of Edenhall. The Rainy Day. 

The Village Blacksmith. Maidenhood. 

Burial of the Minnisink. Excelsior. 

The Wreck of the Hesperus. The Celestial Pilot. 
Paul Revere. 

The Children of the Lord's Supper. 

PROSE WORK. 

Outre-Mer. Hyperion. Kavanagh. 

NOTES ON Longfellow's writings. 
I. Longfellow's poetical fame began with the publica- 
tion of Voices of the Night. This little volume contained 



HENEY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 



15 



A Psalm, of Life, Footsteps of Angels, The Reaper and 
the Flowers, five favorite college poems and some transla- 
tions. 

2. His striking ballads, The Skeleton in Armor and 
The Wreck of the Hesperus, published two years later, in 
1841, established his superiority as a story teller in verse. 
These ballads may well be compared to the minstrelsy of 
old in point of strength, simplicity and swiftness. 

3. His Poems of Slavery written in 1842, while re- 
turning from Europe, added another poetic voice to the 
cause of freedom ; but they did not equal the passionate 
power of Whittier's poems on the same subject. 

4. Longfellow sought eminence in each of the great 
departments of verse. — lyric, epic and dramatic. In 1846, 
he published the Belfry of Bruges, which contained some 
of his finest lyrics, such as The Bridge, The Arrow and 
the Song, the Arsenal at Springfield, and the Old Clock 
on the Stairs. The first of these was a bit of his own 
experience. In his loneliness he used often to visit 
friends across the river, returning to his desolate home 
late at night. The power of Longfellow's artistic, beauti- 
ful lyrics has been proven by their extraordinary popu- 
larity. 

5. Evangeline, "the flower of American idyls/' was 
published in 1847. Concerning it, Longfellow wrote : 
"Some time before I wrote Evangeline, Hawthorne and 
Sumner were dining with me. After dinner, Hawthorne 
told us that he had lately become interested in the Aca- 
dian exiles. It excited his imagination. He fancied two 
lovers, widely separated and wandering for years, meet- 
ing only to die, and wished to make a novel of it. He, 
however, thought the subject too difficult, and fancied 



16 STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITERATURE 

he woiild have to give it up, I waited awhile, heard 
nothing more about the novel, and finally asked Haw- 
thorne if he were willing that I should make the story 
the subject of a poem. He consented, and was one of 
the first to congratulate me on its popularity." It was 
written in classical dactylic hexameter, and the bold ex- 
periment was much criticized as un-English. However, 
**the lingering melancholy, the grace and tenderness of 
this simple tale, wandering through scenes of primeval 
and pastoral beauty, exercise an irresistible charm upon 
readers of every class and condition." The poet soon 
after tried another experiment in the same hexameter, 
in the Courtship of Miles Standish. In this poem, we 
find a frolicsome humor which is quite unlike the poet, 
but which wonderfully softens our hard picture of the 
Plymouth colony. 

6. Hiawatha, a forest epic, pubUshed in 1855, is more 
redolent of the primitive soil of America than anything 
else in our literature. Stedman says that it is the one 
poem that beguiles the reader to see birch and ash, the 
heron and eagle and deer, as they seem to the red man 
himself. "The form, borrowed from the 'Kalevala' oi 
Finland, consists of the trochaic tetrameter verse, then 
almost unknown to English poetry, with parallelism, or 
the repetition of lines in sHghtly varied form." It was 
very strange and curious and the critics made much sport 
with the simple verses, but could not prevent their win- 
ning a complete triumph. Emerson wrote "It is sweet 
and wholesome as maize," and delighted readers every- 
where agreed with him. 

7. Outre-Mer, Longfellow's first prose work, was 
reminiscent of his travels, and written after Irving*s 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 



17 



style. Hyperion was a delightful romance of noble aspi- 
rations and sentiment. It is as much the companion of 
the traveled man of letters in Germany as is Haw- 
thorne's Marble Faun in Italy. It first introduced Ger- 
man poetry to the New World. Kavanagh, issued soon 
after Evangeline, was a story of New England village 
life, and was pronounced by Hawthorne ''a most precious 
and rare book, as fragrant as a bunch of flowers." The 
delicacy and elegance of his prose was, however, too 
fragile to survive, and the story served only as a key to 
some of his principles and ideas. 

8. Longfellow made a great many translations, and 
no matter from what language he attempted to recut 
gems, the work was delicately and accurately done with 
remarkable ease. His translation of the Divine Comedy 
by Dante is one of the best English versions, famous 
especially for its closeness to the original. 

9. Longfellow, like Tennyson, desired to produce a 
dramatic masterpiece, but his genius was not strong 
enough for this. His nearest approach to a successful 
play was his early Spanish Student. The Golden Legend, 
the second part of his elaborate triology, Christus, was 
worthy of some admiration. His other plays, Judas 
Maccabeus and Michael Angelo, were utter failures. 

10. Longfellow's interesting Tales of a Wayside Inn, 
told by a group of friends around the blazing hearth of 
the quaint old Sudbury tavern, appeared in 1863. Chief 
among these tales were the well known favorites Paid 
Revere's Ride, Birds of Killingworth, and King Robert 
of Sicily. 

11. Longfellow fully realized the prayer of Horace 
which he repeated in his Ultima Thtde that he might 



18 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITEl^ATUEE 



"pass an old age neither unworthy nor without song." 
To the last his poems sang sweetly, indeed there seemed 
to be an increasing depth and fullness of tone as age drew 
on. The Hanging of the Crane, a charming domestic 
idyl, was produced in His sixty-seventh year. The next 
year, he read his famous Moriiuri Salutamus to the sur- 
vivors of his old college class. Keramos, the poem of the 
potter, issued four years later, was a truly fitting com- 
panion for his Building of the Ship. 

THE WEECK OF THE HESPERUS. 

It was the schooner Hesperus, ^ 

That sailed the wintry sea ; 
And the skipper had taken his little daughter, 

To bear him company. 

Blue were her eyes as the fairy flax, ' 

lier cheeks like the dawn of day. 
And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds 

That ope in the month of May. 

The skipper he stood beside the helm. • * 

His pipe was in his mouth. 
And he watched how the veering flaw did blow 

The smoke now west, now south. 

Then up and spake an old sailor, * 

Had sailed to the Spanish Alain, — 
"I pray thee, put into yonder port, 

For I fear a hurricane. 

"Last night the moon had a golden ring, ^ 
And to-night no moon we see !" 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 

The skipper he blew a whif¥ from his pipe, 
And a scornful laugh laughed he. 

Colder and louder blew the wind, 

A gale from the northeast ; 
The snow fell hissing in the brine, 

And the billows frothed like yeast. 

Down came the storm, and smote amain 

The vessel in its strength ; 
She shuddered and paused, like a frightened steed, 

Then leaped her cable's length. 

"Come hither ! come hither ! my little daughter. 

And do not tremble so; 
For I can weather the roughest gale 

That ever wind did blow." 

He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat 

Against the stinging blast ; 
He cut a rope from a broken spar. 

And bound her to the mast. 

"O father! I hear the church bells ring, 

O say, what may it be?" 
'"Tis a fog bell on a rock-bound coast !" — 

And he steered for the open sea. 

"O father! I hear the sound of guns, 

O say, what it may be?" 
"Some ship in distress, that cannot live 

In such an angry sea !" 

"O father ! I see a gleaming light, 
O say, what it may be ?" 



20 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITEEATUEE 



But the father answered never a word, 
A frozen corpse was he. 

Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark, 

With his face turned to the skies, 
The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow 

0n his fixed and glassy eyes. 

Then the maiden clasped her hands, and prayed 

That saved she might be ; 
And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave 

On the Lake of Galilee. 

And fast through the midnight dark and drear, 
Through the whistling sleet and snow, 

Like a sheeted ghost the vessel swept 
Towards the reef of Norman's Woe. 

And ever, the fitful gusts between, 

A sound came from the land : 
It was the sound of the trampling surf 

On the rocks and the hard sea sand. 

The breakers were right beneath her bows. 

She drifted a dreary wreck. 
And a whooping billow swept the crew 

Like icicles from her deck. 

She struck where the white and fleecy waves 

Looked soft as carded wool, 
But the cruel rocks they gored her side 

Like the horns of an angry bull. 

Her ratthng shrouds, all sheathed in ice, 
With the masts went by the board ; 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 



21 



Like a vessel of glass, she stove and sank, 
Ho ! ho ! the breakers roared. 

At daybreak, on the bleak seabeach, ^® 

A fisherman stood aghast. 
To see the form of a maiden fair, 

Lashed close to a drifting mast. 

The salt sea was frozen on her breast, 

The salt tears in her eyes ; 
And he saw her hair, Hke the brown seaweed. 

On the billows fall and rise. 

Such was the wreck of the Hesperus, 

Li the midnight and the snow. 
Christ save us all from a death like this, 

On the reef of Norman's Woe ! 

DIRECTIONS FOR STUDY. 

L Read the poem carefully and thoughtfully. 
H. Tell the story of the piece. 
HL Answer the following questions : — What is the 
meaning of Hesperus? Is it an appropriate 
name for a vessel? What is a skipper? How 
does he differ from a captain? What is meant 
by a veering flozv? What is a sign of dan- 
ger? What is meant by sailed the Spanish 
Main? Explain the golden ring around the 
moon, also snozv fell hissing in the brine. Ex- 
plain how the billows frothed like yeast. What 
is meant by cable's length? How can a vessel 
shudder? Why does the little girl think she 
hears the church bells ring? What is a fog 



22 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



bell? Explain the Biblical reference in stanza 
14. 

IV. Explain : — schooner, wintry sea, fairy Hax, haw- 
thorn buds, helm, hurricane, frighted steed, 
broken spar, Norman's Woe, zvhooping billow, 
trampling surf, breakers, seazveed, open sea, 
stinging blast. 

Note. — The Wreck of the Hesperus was founded on 
actual fact, the poet having read an account of the 
wreck in a newspaper. 

Have the pupils study The Village Blacksmith and Ex- 
celsior in much the same manner as we have the preced- 
ing poem. They will be interested with the Chinese Ex- 
celsior, which may be found in Mara L. Pratt's Stories 
of China. The first stanza reads : 

"That nightee him he come chop-chop, 
One young man walkee, no man stoppe; 
Maske snow, maske ice. 
Him cally flag wit chop so nice, 
Top side, Galah!" 

THE NORMAN BARON. 

In his chamber, weak and dying, ^ 
Was the Norman baron lying; 
Loud, without, the tempest thundered, 
And the castle turret shook. 

In this fight was Death the gainer, ^ 
Spite of vassal and retainer, 
And the lands his sires had plundered, 
Written in the Doomsday Book. 



HENRY WADSVVORTH LONGFELLOW 



By his bed a monk was seated, 
Who in humble voice repeated 
Many a prayer and paternoster, 
From the missal on his knee ; 

And, amid the tempest pealing. 
Sounds of bells came faintly stealing, — 
Bells, that from the neighboring kloster 
Rang for the Nativity. 

In the hall, the serf and vassal 

Held, that night, their Christmas wassail; 

Many a carol, old and saintly, 

Sang the minstrels and the waits ; 

And so loud these Saxon gleemen 
Sang to slaves the songs of freemen. 
That the storm was heard but faintly, 
Knocking at the castle gates. 

Till at length the lays they chanted 
Reached the chamber terror-haunted. 
Where the monk, with accents holy, 
Whispered at the baron's ear. 

Tears upon his eyelids glistened, 
As he paused awhile and listened, 
And the dying baron slowly 
Turned his weary head to hear. 

"Wassail for the kingly stranger, 
Born and cradled in a manger ! 
King, like David ; priest, like Aaron ; 
Christ is born to set us free !" 



SrUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



And the lightning showed the sainted 
Figures on the casement painted. 
And exclaimed the shuddering baron, 
"Miserere, Domine !" 

In that hour of deep contrition 
He beheld, with clearer vision, 
Through all outward show and fashion, 
Justice, the Avenger, rise. 

All the pomp of earth had vanished, 
Falsehood and deceit were banished, 
Reason spake more loud than passion. 
And the truth wore no disguise. 

Every vassal of his banner. 
Every serf born to his manor, 
All those wronged and wretched creatures, 
By his hand were freed again. 

And, as on the sacred missal 
He recorded their dismissal. 
Death relaxed his iron features. 
And the monk repHed, "Amen !" 

Many centuries have been numbered 
Since in death the baron slumbered 
By the convent's sculptured portal, 
Mingling with the common dust : 

But the good deed, through the ages. 
Living in historic pages, 
Brighter grows and gleams immortal, 
Unconsumed by moth or rust. 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 



25 



GUIDE OUTLINE FOR THE STUDY OF THE POEM. 

Note. — It is not supposed that all these points be given 
for one lesson. 

I. Read the poem carefully and thoughtfully. 

II. Tell the story of the poem. 

III. Write a paraphrase of the piece. 

IV. Divide the piece into parts, or scenes : let them 

be fully realized or described separately. 
V. Show the relation of the minor parts of the piece 
to the whole ; i. e., study the harmony of the 
whole. 

VL Give due attention to subordinate matters which 

illustrate the piece. 
VII. The study of the text. 
VIII. Make an amplification. 
IX. The author of the poem. 

EXPLANATION OF THE GUIDE OUTLINE. III. 

III. A paraphrase is an attempt to reproduce in other 
language the words of an author so as to retain and 
explain, in different words and forms, the ideas the 
original words express. The following rules will be 
found helpful in paraphrasing: 

1. Read over carefully the passage to be paraphrased, 
until the exact meaning is fully understood. 

2. Be careful to make the paraphrase express exactly 
the meaning of the original passage. 

3. Neither expand nor contract the passage unneces- 
sarily. 

4. Use the words of the equivalent passage only when 
no exact equivalents can be found. 

5. Use simple language. Explain obscure expres- 



26 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



sions. The words may be changed. The order of the 
words may be changed. Figurative language may be 
changed into plain. 

IV. We can best explain this by presenting The 
Norman Baron divided into scenes : 

1. The Norman baron dying in his castle chamber 
during a fearful tempest. The monk repeating prayers 
from the missal. 

2. The pealing of the Christmas bells in the cloister 
near by. Sounds of revelry and the songs of the old and 
saintly carols sung by the Saxon gleemen steal faintly up 
from the halls below. 

3. The dying baron turns his weary head to Hsten; 
tears fill his eyes ; ''Christ was born to set us free" ; the 
lightning lights up the stained figures on the casement. 
The dying call for pity ; his hour of deep contrition. 

4. He frees every serf and vassal ; and, as he records 
it, death relaxes his iron features. Centuries have passed, 
but the good deed brighter grows and gleams immortal. 

After the scene division has been made, each scene 
should be made a realistic picture. Of course, the pupil's 
imagination will have to fill in all details left out by the 
poet. To what extent this work in analysis may be car- 
ried will depend upon the age and capabilities of the 
class. 

V. We have presented several vivid pictures in The 
Norman Baron. Do they harmonize? Do they serve to 
bring into full relief the main idea? Does the tempest 
add to the general effect? Do the old and saintly Christ- 
mas carols? Why did these carols make such a deep 
impression on the stern baron ? 

VI. Aim to understand the allusions, suggestions, 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 



27 



manners, customs, historical references, etc., which illus- 
trate the poem. Example : What age does The Norman 
Baron reflect? What religious forms, rites, and super- 
stitions are illustrated ? What portion of English history 
is represented? Who were the Normans? Where did 
they live? How did the nobles and common people live 
in those times? What was the Saxon custom of cele- 
brating Christmas? What were the cloister bells? What 
were serfs and vassals? 

VII. The following questions will best show what the 
pupils must prepare : What do you know about the Nor- 
mans? What was a baron? A castle turret? Describe 
a Norman castle. What is meant by "spite of vassal and 
retainer?" What was the Doomsday Book? What io 
you know about monks ? What was a missal f What is 
meant by paternoster, klosterf What is referred to by 
Nativity? What was the ancient Christmas custom in 
England? Explain serf, vassal, zvassail, carol, minstrels 
and waits, Saxon gleemen. What does the poet mean by 
storm knocking at the castle gates? What is meant by 
the kingly stranger? Explain Misere, Domine. Why did 
the baron repeat these two words? Paraphrase the 
eleventh and twelfth stanzas, explaining fully. What 
was the result of the baron's contrition? Could he 
legally free his serfs? What is the moral of this beau- 
tiful poem ? What practical lesson can we learn from it ? 

VIII. Amplification is the expansion of the author's 
thought. After all the incidents are thoroughly under- 
stood, the pupils should write the story, adding facts and 
explanations, and forming the whole into a connected 
story. Example : The first stanza of The Norman Baron 
may be amplified as follows : 



28 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



The old Nomian baron lay quietly on his bed in his 
darkened, oak-carved chamber. He was very weak and 
almost dying. Outside, a furious storm raged. The 
wind shrieked and buffeted against the castle turret as 
though trying to lay it low like the doomed master of 
the house, etc. 

THE BUILDERS. 
All are architects of Fate, ^ 

Working in these walls of Time; 
Some with massive deeds and great, 

Some with ornaments of rhyme. 

Nothing useless is. or low ; ^ 

Each thing in its place is bent ; 
And what seems but idle show 

Strengthens and supports the rest. 

For the structure that we raise, ^ 

Time is with materials filled; 
Our todays and yesterdays ^ 

Are the blocks with which we build. 

Truly shape and fashion these ; * 

Leave no yawning gaps between; 
Think not, because no man sees, 

Such things will remain unseen. 

In the elder days of Art, ^ 
Builders wrought with greatest care 

Each minute and unseen part ; 
For the gods see everywhere. 

Let us do our work as well, ^ 
Both the unseen and the seen ; 



HENRY WADSWOETH LONGFELLOW 



29 



Make the house, where gods may dwell, 
Beautiful, entire, and clean. 

Else our lives are incomplete, 

Standing in these walls of Time, 
Broken stairways, where the feet 

Stumble as they seek to climb. 

Build today, then, strong and sure, ® 

With a firm and ample base ; 
And ascending and secure 

Shall tomorrow find its place. 

Thus alone can we attain • * 

To those turrets where the eye 
Sees the world as one vast plain, 

And one boundless reach of sky. 

DIRECTIONS FOR STUDY. 

Commit the poem to memory. Be sure to thor- 
oughly understand it, and make its noble 
thoughts your own. 

What are the blocks with which we build? 

How does the poet tell us to build our lives ? 

What does he say of building in unseen parts? 

What shall be the reward of those who reach the 
high turrets? ' 

What is an architect ? How are we like architects ? 
With what material do we work? 

FOOTSTEPS OF THE ANGELS. 



When the hours of Day are numbered, 
And the voices of the Night 



1 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



Wake the better soul, that slumbered, 
To a holy, calm delight ; 

Ere the evening lamps are lighted. 

And, like phantoms grim and tall, 
Shadows from the fitful fire light 
Dance upon the parlor wall ; 

Then the forms of the departed 

Enter at the open door; 
The beloved, the true-hearted. 

Come to visit me once more ; 

He, the young and strong, who cherished 
Noble longings for the strife, 

By the roadside fell and perished, 
Weary with the march of life ! 

They, the holy ones and weakly. 
Who the cross of suffering bore. 

Folded their pale hands so meekly, 
Spake with us on earth no more! 

And with them the Being Beauteous, 
Who unto my youth was given, 

More than all things else to love me, 
And is now a saint in heaven. 

With a slow and noiseless footstep 
Comes that messenger divine, 

Takes the vacant chair beside me, 
Lays her gentle hand in mine. 

And she sits and gazes at me 
With those deep and tender eyes. 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 



31 



10 



Like the stars, so still and saintlike. 
Looking downward from the skies. 

Uttered not, yet comprehended, 

Is the spirit's voiceless prayer. 
Soft rebukes, in blessitigs ended, 

Breathing from her lips of air. 

O, though oft depressed and lonely, 

All my fears are laid aside, 
If I but remember only 

Such as these have lived and died. 

DIRECTIONS FOR STUDY. 

I. Read the poem carefully and thoughtfully. Ex- 
plain : The better soul, forms of the departed, 
noble longings for the strife, march of life, the 
cross of suffering, messenger divine, spirit's 
voiceless prayer, etc. 
11. To what are the evening shadows compared in the 
second stanza? 
III. Who is meant by the Being Beaiiteoiisf 
\y . Classify the various figures of speech. 
V. Picture Longfellow sitting dreamily in the twilight 
"visiting" with angels. 

SUGGESTED POEMS FOR FURTHER REAPING. 

The Slave in the Dismal Hanging of the Crane. 

Swamp. The Goblet of Life. 

The Reaper and the Flow- Paul Revere. 

ers. The Children's Hour. 

Skeleton in Armor. The Rainy Day. 

Old Clock on the Stairs. Building of the Ship. 

A Psalm of Life. Birds of Killingworth. 



32 



STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITEEATUEE 



THE STUDY OF EVANGELINE. 

"Ye wh© believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and 
is patient. 

Ye who beHeve in the beauty and strength of woman's 
devotion. 

List to the mournful tradition still sung by the pines of 
the forest." 

After studying the short poems, let us take up at least 
one longer poem. Let us choose that exquisite Acadian 
idyl which Holmes pronounces the "masterpiece among 
the longer poems." Pupils follow with unslaked interest 
the story of the Acadians, and the wanderings of the 
maiden whose trials and sorrows were not in vain since 
they taught her "Patience and abnegation of self and 
devotion to others." One of the ten parts is a convenient 
portion for daily study. 

L Read the poem carefully for the purpose of get- 
ting the story. 

IL Ans\yer the following questions : 

1. What author had rejected the plot of Evan- 

geline? Why was it better suited to 
Longfellow ? 

2. Who were the Acadians? 

3. On what historical event is this poem 

founded? Who was King of England 
at this time? 

4. What was the religion of the Acadians? 

Quote some passages to prove your state- 
ment. 

5. . Select and explain some Biblical references. 

Why so many in this poem? 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 



33 



6. Explain curfezv, glebe, loup-garou, savanna, 
Bacchantes, sierra, siisurrus. 

III. Trace the geographical course of the poem. 

IV. Observe throughout all the poem the frequent use 

of simile. Select those which you like best. 
V. Tel\ the story of the poem. 

VI. Who said and to whom, "Must we in all things 
look for the how and the why and the where- 
fore," "Alan is unjust but God is just," "Sorrow 
and silence are strong, and patient endurance is 
godlike ?" 

\7I. Outline the poem. The following may be used: 

1. The Poem. 

a. The Prologue which foreshadows the 

events. 

b. The Theme. 

c. The Epilogue. 

2. The Characters. 

a. Prominent ones. 

b. Those less distinct. 

3. Time of Action. 1755-1793. 

4. Places of Action. 

a. Grand Pre. 

b. On the Ohio. 

c. On the Mississippi. 

d. Through the Southern bayous of 

Louisiana, 

e. The Indian country of Arkansas. 

f. Philadelphia. 

We are now ready, with the aid of our outline, to 
study the poem at closer range. 

I. Read the Prologue and notice how the events 



34 



STTJDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



which follow are foreshadowed. Explain primeval for- 
ests, murmuring pines, Druids, etc. Select especially 
sonorous lines, such as 4 and 5. 

II. What is the Theme? 

III. The poem is rich in description. Study the fol- 
lowing : 

1. Description of Grand Pre. its homes and inhabit- 
ants ; Hues 20-57. Notice the simplicity of the lives of 
the Acadians. 

2. The Forge of Basil, the blacksmith. Compare this 
picture with that of "The Village Blacksmith." 

3. The description of the Indian summer from the 
beginning of Canto II to line 198. This is one of the 
finest descriptions in our language. (The French called 
this the Summer of All Saints; it began about Nov. i.) 

4. In Part II, Canto I, note the beauty of the scenery 
along the river from Ohio to Louisiana, which Evan- 
geline sees in her search. Describe the city of Opelousas, 
and the luxuriance of the neighboring region. 

5. In Canto IV of Part II, lines 1089-1105, note the 
fine description of the Western Prairies, the land of the 
buffalo. 

6. Notice the descriptions of the Louisiana Bayous 
and the Lakes of Atchafalaya. 

IV. Locate Grand Pre, Opelousas, Atchafalaya Lakes, 
Atchafalaya and Teche Rivers, and Adayes. 

V. Study the following principal characters : 

1. Contrast the description of Benedict and Evan- 
geline. 

2. Study the description of Benedict's friends — Basil, 
Gabriel, Rene Leblanc. Note the simplicity of their 
amusements. Note the faith of Benedict as compared 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 



35 



with that of Basil. Why was Rene Leblanc an important 
personage in Grand Pre ? 

3. Study the character of EvangeHne as girl, maiden, 
and woman. 

Note. — "Evangeline's character, though not sharply 
defined, is depicted as carrying out all the simplicity of 
her race, together with its deep religious faith. Her 
unselfishness is shown in the thought she bestowed on 
others in sorrow at the time of exile. Later in life this 
same characteristic helped her to put aside her own 
sorrow and minister to others. Owing to this very self- 
sacrifice her search was finally rewarded," — Sel. 

4. The character of the priest: 

a. Show his influence in Part I, Canto IV, lines 460- 
480. 

b. Notice the comfort given to Evangeline by the 
priest who accompanied her on her journey. Canto I, 
Part II. 

c. Select any passages which show the fidelity and 
sympathy between Father Felician and his people. 

Note. — He is typical of many of the early Jesuit mis- 
sionaries, who did not hesitate to sacrifice themselves for 
the welfare of their flocks, or the furthering of their 
religion. 

VI. Study the various superstitions held by the peo- 
ple. Read lines 280-286, Canto II, Part I. 

1. Notice the presentiment of coming evil in line 376. 
Also lines 1158-1163, Canto IV, Part II. 

2. Lines 136-139 tell of a superstition held by the 
Normans ; the possession of this stone is said to give 
great powers to the owner. 



36 



STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITEEATUEE 



3. Line 144 — St. Eulalie's Day is the 12th of Febru- 
ary. If th^ sun shines on that day, it is indicative of a 
season of plenty. 

4. Line 280 — The Loup-garou is supposed to be a 
man with power to turn himself into a wolf in order to 
devour children. 

5. The superstition that on Christmas Eve at mid- 
night, all the cattle fell down on their knees in the stalls, 
in adoration of the Saviour, still exists among some of 
the peasants of Europe. 

6. The story of Justice is founded on an old Floren- 
tine story. 

7. Curfew is a corruption of a French word meaning 
cover-fire. It was the custom to put the fires out at the 
ringing of a bell, and for all people to go to their homes. 

VII. Describe the Canadian trappers — Coureurs-des- 
bois — Line 705. 

VIII. Describe the drawing of the betrothal papers 
and the betrothal feast. The summons to the church and 
the scene there. The march to the ships, and the separa- 
tions there. The destruction of the homes — note the 
grandeur of lines 613-625. 

IX. What is an Epilogue? Study the close of the 
story. 

CRITICISMS. 

I. ''Longfellow loved his 'neighbor' and aided him 
through varied forms of charity ; his patience with 
, strange visitors, relic hunters, and autograph collectors 
was phenomenal. Not even for critics, whom he loved 
least of all, had he ever a bitter word. There was not a 
drop of acid in his nature. His style is as clear as 
crystal, and the melody is never marred by discords. 



11 EMU' WADSVVOKTH LONGFELLOW 



37 



There is none of Whittier's impetuous rush, or of 
Lowell's pungent humor. The limitations of his poems 
are obvious ; the themes are commonplace and the 
thoughts are not profound ; but so to treat the common- 
place as to make it eternally interesting and beautiful, to 
immortalize a 'Milage Blacksmith' in song, requires a 
high order of genius." — Selected from Aheniethys Lit- 
erature. 

2. ''Longfellow has been called the least national of 
our poets. Although by taste, temperament, and educa- 
tion, he was strongly drawn toward Europe, yet he was 
not lacking in patriotism. His greatest poems are thor- 
oughly native, and the Bitilding of the Ship is numbered 
among the finest, if not the finest, of our national poems. 
His culture was cosmopolitan ; he was at home in any 
part of the Old World where legend, art, or song has 
left a shrine. If the castled Rhine inspired him as gen- 
uinely as his own Charles, our literature has been the 
better for ii. All the world was his Hybla, from which 
to gather honeyed verse." — Selected. 

3. "His poems are apples of gold in pictures of silver. 
There is nothing in them excessive, nothing overwrought, 
nothing strained into turgidity, obscurity, or nonsense. 
There is sometimes, indeed, a fine stateliness, as in the 
Arsenal at Springfield, and even a resounding splendor 
of diction, as in Sandalphon. But when the melody is 
most delicate, it is simple. The poet throws nothing into 
the mist to make it large. How purely melodious his 
verse can be without losing the thought or its most 
transparent expression, is seen in the Evening Star and 
Snozc-flakcs. The literary decoration of his style, the 
aroma and color and richness, so to speak, which it 



38 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



derives from his ample accomplishment in literature, are 
incomparable." — George William Curtis. 

REFERENCES. 

Longfellow's Complete Works. 

Life of H. W. Longfellow. — Samuel Longfellozv. 

Longfellow : His Life, His Works, His Friendships. 

Longfellow's Remembrance Book. 

Studies in Longfellow. — Gannett. 

Authors and Friends. — Field. 

Cyclopedia of American Biography. — Norton. 

poet's tributes. 
To H. W. L., Lowell; Longfellow, Winter; The Poet 
and the Children, Whittier ; Our Dead Singer and To H. 
W. Longfellow, Holmes; Longfellow, C ranch; Longfel- 
low Dead! Hayne; Whose Shall the Welcome Be? 
Phelps. 

QUESTIONS ON LONGFELLOW. 

1. Write a short sketch of Longfellow's, life. 

2. Tell the story of Paul Revere' s Ride. 

3. Outline The Wreck of the Hesperus. 

4. Amplify The Slave in the Dismal Szmmp. 

5. Paraphrase The Norman Baron. 

6. Write the story of Evangeline as briefly as pos- 
sible. 

7. Give ten memory gems. 

8. Name some titles which were given to Long- 
fellow. 

9. Name three of his prose works. 

10. Tell something of his private life. 

11. What makes his poetry so popular? 

12. Which one of his poems do you like best? Why? 



JOHN GEEENLEAF WHITTIER 



39 



JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER/ 

1807—1892. 

His poetry burns from the soul with the fire and energy of 
an ancient prophet. His noble simplicity of character is the 
delight of all who know him. — W. E. Chatming. 

* ' Whittier 's poems have an ennobling and inspiring influence 
on our lives beyond the power of the poet's art," says Irish in 
his * * American Authors ' ' ; * ' we feel that God is speaking to us 
through the unselfish and consecrated life of a fearless patriot 
and genuine Christian citizen — a man of clean hands and a pure 
heart. Whittier is the high priest, Hebrew prophet, and sweet 
psalmist of American literature. His intense hatred of wrong 
and his supreme love of right, his stirring bugle-calls to duty 
and his unswerving loyalty to truth, appeal to our nobler nature 
like the Psalms of David or the sublime words of Isaiah; and his 
sweet devotional poems breathe the spirit of the Great Teacher, 
whose biography is written in one sentence: *He went about 
doing good.' " 

JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER, the Quaker poet, was 
born December 17, 1807, in Haverhill, Massa- 
chusetts. His parents were members of the Society of 
Friends, or Quakers. The father was a farmer of only 
moderate circumstances ; the farm was not a profitable 
one ; it was burdened with debt and money was scarce. 
The mother was a very tender-hearted woman and most 
hospitable, hence the home was seldom without visitors. 
The Whittier home was situated in a somewhat lonely 
place, half hidden in the woods, with no other house in 
sight. The family consisted of four children ; two sons 
and two daughters. A maiden aunt and an eccentric old 
uncle completed the home circle. We may read an excel- 
lent description of the Whittier home and its members in 



40 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



Snozv Bound. Many other poems also give delightful 
glimpses of this home. In Telling the Bees, we read: 

Here is the place; right over the hill 

Runs the path I took; 
You can see the gap in the old stone M^all, 

And the stepping-stones in the shallow brook. 

One day an old Scotchman visited the Whittier home, 
and after eating a Imich of bread and cheese and drink- 
ing a mug of cider, he began to sing Bonnie Doon and 
Highland Mary. Whittier was so pleased with the words 
that he never forgot them. Some time after the district 
school teacher, a graduate of Partmouth College, spent 
the evening with the Whittiers, a thing which he fre- 
quently did. He brought with him a copy of Burns's 
poems and read aloud to the family. Young Whittier 
listened spellbound. His teacher noticed his interest and 
kindly left the book with him ; thus was kindled the 
poetic fire which glowed for seventy years. 

Whittier scribbled verses on his slate when he was a 
little boy at school, but he was a lad of nineteen when 
his sister privately sent his first verses to The Free Press, 
published by William Lloyd Garrison. The poem so 
pleased the editor that he drove out to the farm to see 
the writer. John was hoeing in the field and felt disposed 
to excuse himself, but his sister Mary persuaded him to 
make himself presentable and see the editor. It was a 
bashful meeting for the young farmer, but the well bred 
society man soon made him feel entirely at ease, and they 
had a long talk, the editor advising him to take a course 
of study as a training for a literary future. Whittier's 
school opportunities had been limited to the district 



JOHN CtEEENLEAF WHITTIER 



41 



school, half a mile away, and a term of but twelve weeks 
in the year. He owed much, however, to a story-telling 
uncle, "innocent of books," but "rich in lore of fields and 
brooks." The boy had imbibed a great store of knowl- 
edge such as that gained by his Barefoot Boy: 

Knowledge never learned of schools, 
Of the wild bees morning chase, 
Of the wild flow^er's time and place, 
Flight of fowl and habitude 
Of the tenants of the w^ood. 

The young man was anxious to follow Garrison's 
advice, but there was no money in the family treasury. 
He finally solved the problem by learning to make shoes. 
With the money so earned, he got six months' board and 
tuition at Haverhill Academy. At the close of this term, 
he became editor of a home paper and the Hartford 
New England Reviezc, consequently he soon became 
known to all the writers and thinkers of New England. 

In 1836, the Haverhill farm was sold and the family, 
consisting of the poet, his mother. Aunt ]Mercy, and his 
sisters, Mary and Elizabeth, moved to Amesbury, eight 
miles farther down the ]\Ierrimac. In this plain, old 
fashioned house many of Whittier's best poems, includ- 
ing Snow Bound, were written. In this delightful picture 
of his childhood home he sketched all the members of 
the family with exquisite skill, but he writes most ten- 
derly of Elizabeth, the ''youngest and dearest," w^ho was 
his loving companion through the struggle against slav- 
ery, and who passed away the year before Snow Bound 
was written : 



42 STTJDIP:S in AMERICAN LITERATUBE 



As one who held herself a part 
Of all she saw, and let her heart 

Against the household bosom lean, 
Upon the motley-braided mat 
Our youngest and our dearest sat, 
Lifting her large, sweet, asking eyes, 

Now bathed in the unfading green 
And holy peace of paradise. 

Whittier gave thirty of the best years of his life to the 
anti-slavery struggle. While other poets traveled in 
foreign lands or studied in their libraries, Whittier was 
earnestly at work in a Boston garret helping Garrison to 
put out his paper, The Liberator. Of this time he wrote : 

Forego the dreams of lettered ease; 
Put thou the scholar's promise by. 
The rights of man are more than these. 

"In impetuous, ringing stanzas, he poured forth his hot 
indignation, startling the conscience of the whole nation. 
Against the recreant clergy he cries out : 

How long, O Lord, how long 

Shall such a priesthood barter truth away, 
And in thy name, for robbery and wrong 

At thy own altars pray? • 

"For the pursuers of fugitive slaves he has a song of 
stinging irony, The Hunters of Men, and in Massachu- 
setts to Virginia he sounds a 'blast from Freedom's 
Northern hills' as terrible in its deep-toned scorn and 
denunciation as the voice of an ancient prophet." At 
one time his office was sacked and burned, and at various 
times his life was endangered by mob violence, yet he 
kept well to the front, only retiring to the privacy of 
quiet life when his ill health forced him to do so. Then 



JOHN GEEENLEAF WHITTIEE 



43 



he would rest but a short time. "Whenever occasion 
offered," says Lowell, "some burning lyric of his flew 
across the country like the fiery cross to warn and rally." 

What, ho! our countrymen in chains! 
The whip on woman's shrinking flesh! 

Speak! Shall their agony of prayer 
Come thrilling to our hearts in vain? 

Of these years that so tried his soul, he wrote in that 
poem To My Sister: 

And, knowing how my life hath been 

A weary work of tongue and pen, 

A long, harsh strife with strong-willed men, 

Thou wilt not chide my turning 
To con, at times, an idle rhyme, 
To pluck a flower from childhood's clime, 
Or listen, at Life's noonday chime, 

For the sweet bells of Morning! 

Among the best known of Whittier's writings which 
we have not already mentioned are The Yankee Girl, 
The Lost Occasion, In School Days, The Eternal Good- 
ness, My Playmate, Angels of Biiena Vista, The River 
Path, Red Riding Hood, My Psalm, Maud Midler, The 
Tent on the Beach, etc. 

Whittier never married. In speaking to a friend of 
his bachelor life, he said : "I know there has something 
very sweet and beautiful been missed, but I have no 
reason to complain. I have learned, at least, to look into 
happiness through the eyes of others, and to thank God 
for the happy unions and holy firesides I have known." 
In his poem, Memories, we get a glimpse of his tender 
Hfe romance: 



44 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATUEE 



I hear again thy low replies, 

I feel thy arm within my own, 
And timidly again uprise 
The fringed lids of hazel eyes. 

With soft brown tresses overblown. 
Ah! memories of sweet summer eves, 

Of moonlit wave and willowy way. 
Of stars and flowers, and dewy leaves, 

And smiles and tones more dear than they! 

At the close of a beautiful day in the autumn of 1892, 
he slipped quietly away from this life. His last words 
were, "My love to the world." Funeral services were 
held Saturday, September 10, in the garden at the rear 
of the Amesbury home. Eulogies were delivered by E. 
C. Stedman and others, and in the deep silence a Quaker 
friend repeated one of his last poems : 

No gate of pearl, no branch of palm I merit, 
No street of shining gold. 

Some humble door among thy -jnany mansions, 

Some sheltering shade where sin and striving cease, 

And flow forever through heaven's green expansions, 
The river of thy peace. 

There from the music round about me stealing 

I fain would learn the new and holy song, 
And find, at last, beneath thy trees of healing 

The life for which I long. 

The body was borne to the cemetery, half a mile away, 
and laid to rest on the hill overlooking the beautiful 
valley of Powow and the ^lerrimac river, which he 
loved. A simple slab of pure white marble, bearing the 
date of his birth and death on one side, and on the other 



JOHN GEEENLEAF WHITTIER 



45 



the closing words of Doctor Holmes's beautiful tribute, 
marks the grave. 

Best loved and saintliest of our singing train, 
Earth's noblest tributes to thy name belong. 
A lifelong record closed without a stain, 

A blameless memory shrined in deathless song. 

Lift from its quarried ledge a flawless stone; 

Smooth the green turf and bid the tablet rise, 
■ And on its snow-white surface carve alone 

These words, — he needs no more,. — here Whittier 

LIES. 

Whittier was tall, measuring six feet or more, of 
slender build, straight as an arrow ; a fine looking man, 
with high forehead, piercing dark eyes, a quiet smile, 
and hair once blacky but in age thinned and gray. He 
dressed in black, cut Quaker fashion. His speech was 
true Quaker. 

MEMORY GEMS FROM WHITTIER. 
(The pupil should learn one gem each day. We give 
first an Acrostic, which may be helpful in preparing a 
program.) 

We shape ourselves the joy or fear 
Of which the coming life is made, 
And fill the future's atmosphere 
With sunshine or with shade. 

Happy must be the State 

Whose ruler heedeth more 

The murmurs of the poor 
Than flatteries of the great. 

I pray the prayer of Plato old ; 
God make thee beautiful within. 



STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITEEATURE 

And let thine eyes the good behold 
In everything save sin ! 

The meal unshared is food unblest; 

Thou hoardest in vain what love should spend 
Self ease is pain ; thy only rest 

Is labor for a worthy end. 

The Present, the Present is all thou hast 

For thy sure possessing ; 
Like the patriarch's angel hold it fast 

Till it gives its blessing. 

I feel the earth more sunward, 
I join the great march onward, 
And take by faith, while living, 
My freehold of thanksgiving. 

Earth shall be near to heaven when all 
That severs man from man shall fall. 
For, here or there, salvation's plan 
Alone is love of God and man. 

Riches of the Commonwealth 

Are free, strong minds, and hearts of health, 

And more to her than gold or grain, 

The cunning hand and cultured brain. 

Wisely and well said the Eastern bard : 
Fear is easy, but love is hard ; 
Easy to glow with the Santon's rage. 
And walk on the Meccan pilgrimage, 
But he is greatest and best who can 
Worship Allah by loving man. 



JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIEE 



47 



The tissue of the life to be 

We weave with colors all our own, 

And in the field of Destiny 
We reap as we have sown. 

A PARTIAL LIST OF WHITTIER's WRITINGS FOR REFERENCE. 



Legends of New England. 
Voices of Freedom. 
Songs of Labor. 
The Chapel of the Hermits. 
Tent on the Beach. 
Ballads of New England. 
St. Gregory's Guest. 
The Corn Song. 
In School Days. 
The River Path. 
Skipper Iresen's Ride. 
Angels of Buena Vista. 
Cobbler Kaesar's Vision. 
King Solomon and the 

Ants. 
My Playmate. 
Memories. 



Mogg Megone. 

Maud MuUer. 

Snow Bound. 

Mabel Martin. 

Among the Hills. 

Poems of Nature. 

Barefoot Boy. 

The Frost Spirit. 

Barbara Frietchie. 

The Pipes of Lucknow. 

The Robin. 

Our Braves. 

Yorktown. 

The Yankee Girl. 

In School Days. 

The Huskers. 



NOTES ABOUT WHITTIER's WRITINGS. 

I. Whittier's first collection of poems appeared in 
1837, and was followed two years later by another col- 
lection. His "Lays of My Home," issued in 1843, was 
the first book to bring him any financial returns, his other 
books having been devoted to the anti-slavery cause. His 
slavery poems, the majority of which had been published 
in the National Era, were printed in one volume called 



48 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



Voices of Freedom, in 1849. Songs of Labor, celebrat- 
ing the homely beauty of fishing, lumbering, and other 
forms of toil, was issued the next year. 

2. Snozv Bound, pubhshed in 1866, had a success 
rivaling that of Evangeline. Woodberry says: "It is 
perfect in its conception and complete in its execution ; 
it is the New England home, entire, with its character- 
istic scene, its incidents of household life, its Christian 
virtues. It is, in a peculiar sense, the one poem of New 
England — so completely indigenous that the soil has 
fairly created it, so genuine as to be better than history." 
It has been justly compared with Burns's Cotter's 
Saturday Night and Goldsmith's Deserted Village. 

3. The Tent on the Beach, 1867, was a series of 
narrative tales woven together after the fashion of Long- 
fellow's Tales of a Wayside Inn. 

4. Whittier's last years were spent in happy enjoy- 
ment of his fame. Enemies, made by his anti-slavery 
productions, had long since forgiven him, and he was 
universally loved. He kept leisurely busy with his pen, 
and in 1890 published a small volume of verses for his 
friends. His last poem was some birthday lines ad- 
dressed to his dear friend, Oliver Wendell Holmes. 

5. We have no writer of ballads founded on our 
national history and tradition who can be compared with 
Whittier either in the range or skillful treatment of his 
material. He was the first to use the Indian legends, 
see his Mogg Megone and the Bridal of Pennacook. He 
was supremely successful with legends of witchcraft, 
Quaker persecution, and themes peculiar to New Eng- 
land. 

6. Whittier's finest poetry was written after he put 



JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 



49 



off the title of "Freedom's Trumpeter" and became the 
gentle ''Hermit of Amesbury." His main theme is love 
of home, humanity, and God. He has been called the 
most religious of all the poets, "preaching always a 
creed that is broad, generous, and beautiful." John 
Bright said that the lofty poem. Eternal Goodness, was 
worth a crowd of sermons. 

7. Among Whittier's best known prose writings are 
Leaves from Margaret Smith's Journal, a pleasing 
description of old time manners and customs in New 
England ; Old Portraits and Modern Sketches; Super- 
naturalism in New England; Child Life in Prose; and 
Journal of John Woolman. 

8. The little girl immortaHzed In School Days was 
Lydia G. Ayres, who died at the age of fourteen. "Red- 
Riding Hood," in the poem by that name, was Phoebe 
Woodman. The Lost Occasion and Ichabod refer to 
Daniel Webster. In The Tent on the Beach, Bayard 
Taylor and James T. Fields were the poet's companions. 
The lady in the Tent existed only in Whittier's imagina- 
tion. 

9. Whittier's first published poem was The Exile's 
Departure, which his sister Mary privately selected from 
his packet of poems and sent to The Free Press. Whit- 
tier was helping to mend a fence when the paper con- 
taining the poem was thrown to him by the postman 
who was passing on horseback. The poet says : "I took 
up the sheet and was surprised and overjoyed to see my 
lines in the 'Poet's Corner.' I stood gazing at them in 
wonder, and my uncle had to call me several times to my 
work before I could recover myself." 

10. In School Days was first sent to his editorial 



50 STTJDIES IN AMERICAN LITEEAf UBE 



friend, Lucy Larcom, with the following characteristic 
note: ''Friend Lucy, if thee thinks these verses too 
sentimental throw them into the waste-basket." Miss 
Larcom did not think them sentimental, and was de- 
lighted to print the tender verses for Whittier's admiring 
friends and readers. Memories was another poem so 
near to the poet's heart that he hesitated about pub- 
lishing it. 

KING SOLOMON AND THE ANTS. 

Out from Jerusalem * 
The king rode with his great 
War chiefs and lords of state, 

And Sheba's queen with them. 

Comely, but black withal, ' 
To whom, perchance, belongs 
That wondrous song of songs. 

Sensuous and mystical. 

Whereto devout souls turn ' 
In fond ecstatic dream, 
And through its earth-born theme 

The love of flowers discern. 

Proud in the Syrian sun, * 

In gold and purple sheen. 

The dusky Ethiop queen 
Smiled on King Solomon. 

Wisest of men, he knew * 
The languages of all 
The creatures great or small 

That trod the earth or flew. 



JOHN GEEENLEAF WHITTIER 



Across an ant-hill led 

The king's path, and he heard 
Its small folk, and their word 

He thus interpreted : 

"Here comes the king men greet 
As wise and good and just, 
To crush us in the dust 

Under his heedless feet." 

The great king bowed his head, 
And saw the wide surprise 
Of the Queen of Sheba's eyes 

As he told her what they said. 

"O king!" she whispered sweet, 
''Too happy fate have they 
Who perish in thy way 

Beneath thy gracious feet! 

"Thou of the God-lent crown, 
Shall these vile creatures dare 
Murmur against thee where 

The knees of kings kneel down?" 

"Nay," Solomon replied, 

"The wise and strong should seek 
The welfare of the weak," 

And turned his horse aside. 

His train, with quick alarm, 
Curved with their leader round 
The ant-hill's peopled mound, 

And left it free from harm. 



52 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



The jewelled head bent low— 
"O king!" she said, ''henceforth 
The secret of thy worth 

And wisdom well I know. 

''Happy must be the State 
Whose ruler heedeth more 
The murmurs of the poor 

Than flatteries of the great." 



DIRECTIONS FOR STUDY. 

I. Read the poem carefully. What is the Biblical 

reference in the second stanza? 
II. Write a paraphrase of the poem, 
III. Divide the poem into parts or scenes. For illustra- 
tion : 

I. The king, in company with his great war chiefs 
and lords of state and the Queen of Sheba, rides out 
from Jerusalem, etc. 

IN SCHOOL DAYS. 

(This poem is such an old favorite that it is thought 
unnecessary to give it here. Observe the following sug- 
gestions : 

I. Commit the poem to memory. 
II. Write a paraphrase of the piece ; i. e., tell the story 

in your own words. 
III. Make an outline of the piece, as follows : 
I. Position of the school-house: 

a. Compared to what. 

b. Description of surroundings. 



JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 



53 



2. Interior of house : 

( desks. 

a. Description of J floor. 

[ walls. 

3. Etc. 

Note. — Many authors make such an outline before 
writing any kind of story or article. Whittier did not. 
He wrote whenever the mood seized him, and seldom 
changed a line. 

THE YANKEE GIRL. 

She sings by her wheel at that low cottage-door, ^ 
Which the long evening shadow is stretching before, 
With a music as sweet as the music which seems 
Breathed softly and faint in the ear of our dreams! 

How brilliant and mirthful the Hght of her eye, ^ 
Like a star glancing out from the blue of the sky! 
And lightly and freely her dark tresses play 
O'er a brow and a bosom as lovely as they! 

Who comes in his pride to that low cottage-door — ^ 
The haughty and rich to the humble and poor? 
'Tis the great Southern planter — the master who waves 
His whip of dominion o'er hundreds of slaves. 

"Nay, Ellen — for shame ! Let those Yankee fools spin, * 
Who would pass for our slaves with a change of their 
skin ; 

Let them toil as they will at the loom or the wheel. 
Too stupid for shame, and too vulgar to feel ! 



54: STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



"But thou art too lovely and precious a gem ^ 
To be bound to their burdens and sullied by them — 
For, shame, ^llen, shame — cast thy bondage aside, 
And away to the South, as my blessing and pride. 

''O, come where no winter thy footsteps can wrong, 
But where flowers are blossoming all the year long, 
Where the shade of the palm-tree is over my home. 
And the lemon and orange are white in their bloom. 

*'0, come to my home, where my servants shall all ' 
Depart at thy bidding and come at thy call ; 
They shall heed thee as mistress with trembling and awe. 
And each wish of thy heart shall be felt as a law." 

O, could you have seen her — that pride of our girls — ^ 
Arise and cast back the dark wealth of her curls, 
With a scorn in her eye which the gazer could feel, 
And a glance like the sunshine that flashes on steel. 

''Go back, haughty Southron ! thy treasures of gold ^ 
Are dim with the blood of the hearts thou hast sold ; 
Thy home may be lovely, but round it I hear 
The crack of the whip and the footstep of fear. 

''And the sky of the South may be brighter than ours, 
And greener thy landscapes, and fairer thy flowers ; 
But dearer the blast round our mountains which raves 
Than the sweet summer zephyr that breathes over slaves ! 

"Full low at thy bidding thy negroes may kneel, 
With the iron of bondage on spirit and heel ; 
Yet know that the Yankee girl sooner would be 
In fetters with them, than in freedom with thee !" 



JOHN GBEENLEAF WHIT TIER 



55 



DIRECTIONS FOR STUDY. 

I. Read the poem carefully. 

11. Make an abstract of the piece, i. e., tell the story in 
as few words as possible. 

III. Make an amplification of the poem. Tell the story, 

adding any incidents which might have occurred. 
For example : 

THE YANKEE GIRL. 

Ellen Irwin, the Yankee girl, sat alone at her spinning- 
wheel in the low cottage door. The rest of the family, 
which included father and mother, her young sister 
Mary, and Aunt Polly, had not yet returned from the 
city, where they had gone to do the fall shopping. The 
long evening shadows stretched across the floor, making 
all sorts of grotesque figures. The slowly sinking sun 
played among her dark curls, and gleamed upon the 
dainty coloring of neck and brow, and even the brilliant 
blue of her eyes seemed to be reflecting the dancing sun- 
shine, etc. 

IV. Write a description of the haughty Southron. Give 

him a name. Describe his personal appearance. 
Tell something of his home and his treatment of 
slaves. 

SKIPPER IRESON'S RIDE. 

Of all the rides since the birth of time, ^ 

Told in story or sung in rhyme — 

On Apuleius's Golden Ass, 

Or one-eyed Calendar's horse of brass, 

Witch astride of human back, 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



Islam's prophet on Al-Borak — 
The strangest ride that ever was sped 
Was Ireson's, out from Marblehead! 
Old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart, 
Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart 
By the women of Marblehead ! 

Body of turkey, head of owl. 
Wings adroop like a rained-on fowl, 
Feathered and ruffled in every part, 
Skipper Ireson stood in the cart. 
Scores of women, young and old, 
Strong of muscle, and glib of tongue, 
Pushed and pulled up the rocky lane. 
Shouting and singing the shrill refrain : 
''Here's Flud Oirson, fur his horrd horrt, 
Torr'd an' futherr'd an' corr'd in a corrt 
By the women o' Morble'ead !" 

Wrinkled scolds with hands on hips. 
Girls in bloom of cheek and lips. 
Wild-eyed, free-limbed, such as chase 
Bacchus round some antique vace. 
Brief of skirt, with ankles bare. 
Loose of kerchief and loose of hair, 
With conch-shells blowing and fish-horns twang, 
Over and over the Maenads sang: 
''Here's Flud Oirson, fur his horrd horrt, 
Torr'd an' futherr'd an' corr'd in a corrt 
By the women o', Morble'ead !" 

Small pity for him ! He sailed away 
From a leaking ship m Chaleur Bay — 



JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 



Sailed away from a sinking wreck, 
With his own town's-people on her deck ! 
*'Lay by ! lay by !" they called to him. 
Back he answered, ''Sink or swim! 
Brag of your catch of fish again !" 
And off he sailed through the fog and rain 
Old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart, 
Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart 
By the women of Marblehead! 

Fathoms deep in dark Chaleur 
That wreck shall lie forever more. 
Mother and sister, wife and maid, 
Looked from the rocks of Marblehead 
Over the moaning and rainy sea — 
Looked for the coming that might not be ! 
What did the winds and the sea-birds say 
Of the cruel captain who sailed away ? — 
Old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart, 
Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart 
By the women of Marblehead ! 

Through the street on either side, 
Up flew windows, doors swung wide; 
Sharp-tongued spinsters, old wives gray. 
Treble lent the fish-horn's bray. 
Sea-worn grandsires, cripple-bound. 
Hulks of old sailors run aground. 
Shook head, and fist, and hat and cane, 
And cracked with curses the coarse refrain 
''Here's Flud Oirson, for his horrd horrt, 
Torr'd an' futherr'd an' corr'd in a corrt 
By the women o' Morble'ead !" 



STODIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Sweetly along the Salem road 
Bloom of orchard and lilac showed. 
Little the wicked skipper knew 
Of the fields so green and 'the sky so blue, 
Riding there in his sorry trim, 
Like an Indian idol glum and grim. 
Scarcely he seemed the sound to hear 
Of voices shouting, far and near : 
''Here's Flud Oirson, fur his horrd horrt, 
Tarr'd an' futherr'd an' corr'd in a corrt 
By the women o' Morble'ead !" 

"Hear me, neighbors at last he cried, — 
"What to me is this noisy ride? 
What is the shame that clothes the skin 
To the nameless horror that lives within ? 
Waking or sleeping, I see a wreck, 
And hear a cry from a reeling deck ! 
Hate me and curse me, — I only dread 
The hand of God and the face of the dead !" 
Said old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart. 
Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart, 
By the women of Marblehead ! 

Then the wife of the skipper lost at sea 
Said, "God has touched him ! — why should we 
Said an old wife mourning her only son, 
"Cut the rogue's tether and let him run !" 
So with soft relentings and rude excuse, 
Half scorn, half pity, they cut him loose, 
And gave him a cloak to hide him in, 
And left him alone with his shame and sin. 
Poor Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart, • 



JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 



59 



Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart, 
By the women of Marblehead ! 

DIRECTIONS FOR STUDY. 

I. Read the piece carefully. Explain the following 
words and phrases : Apuleiuss Golden Ass, 
Islam's prophet on Al-Borak, Marblehead, Bac- 
chus, conch shells, Mcenads, Chaleur Bay, "Sea- 
worn grandsires, cripple bound. Hulks of old 
sailors run aground/' nameless horror, reeliiig 
deck, cracked with curses, the rogue's tether, 
"The hand of God and the face of the dead," 
sorry trim, spinisters, moaning and rainy sea. 
11. Divide the poem into parts or scenes. 
III. Make an amplification of the poem. 

SELECTIONS FOR FURTHER READING AND STUDY. 

The Angels of Buena Massachusetts to Virginia. 

Vista. Mogg Megone. 

The Poor Voter on Elec- The Barefoot Boy. 

tion Day. Maud Muller. 

Telling the Bees. The Captain's Well. 

The Gift of Tritemius. My Playmate. 

The Wreck of Rivermouth. Memories. 



DIRECTIONS REGARDING ABOVE POEMS. 

I. Read the poems carefully, looking up the meaning 
of any words or phrases not fully understood. 
II.' Pupils write the story of ''Mogg Megone." The 
other poems should be discussed in class, and 
may be made the basis for abstracts and amplifica- 
tions if the teacher desires. 



60 



STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITERATURE 



THE STUDY OF SNOW BOUND. 

I. Read the poem carefully. Aim to get a good 
picture of the New England home, its incidents 
of household life, and its Christian virtues. 
11. Describe 'The Snowstorm" by making an ampli- 
fication of the first -six stanzas. 

III. Describe ''A Winter Evening in Whittier's Early 

Home" by making an amplification of stanzas 
lo, 12, 13, 14, last 17 lines of stanza 15, 16, 
and 24. 

IV. Read stanzas 17 and 18 and then write a descrip- 

tion of Whittier's sisters, as you imagine them. 
V. Describe Whittier's uncle. Stanza 15. 
VI. Describe the District Schoolmaster. Stanzas 
19-20. 

VII. Explain : — whirl dance of the blinding storm, 
winged snow, the stout hackstick, the knotty 
forestick, -filled betzveen with curious art, ''In 
baffled rage at pane and door/' ''The great 
throat of the chimney laughed,'' a couchant 
tiger, andirons, quench our hearth iire^s ruddy 
glow. Nature's unhoused lyceiim, read the 
clouds as prophecies, teal, loon, partridge, 
mink, hermit, shagbark, ticking its weary cir- 
cuit through, etc. 
VIII. Select some strong descriptions. Note the 
author's pleasing way of describing old things. 
IX. When was this poem written? What sorrow was 

Whittier then combating? 
X. Do you think his loneliness affected the poem in 
any way? Explain your answer. 



JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIEE 61 
CRITICISMS. 

1. 'The faults of Whittier's poetry are obvious and 
forgivable. He lacked the power of artistic compression, 
the diffuseness of the thought running sometimes into 
mere commonplace. His liking for rhymed tetrameters, 
due perhaps to his early devotion to Burns, produces mo- 
notony; his meter often halts, and his rhymes are occa- 
sionally atrocious. '1 should be hung for my bad rhymes 
anywhere south of Mason and Dixon's line,' he wrote to 
his publisher, Fields, to whose sensitive ear such rhymes 
as martyr — mater, pen — been, were a kind of mild tor- 
ture. But in spite of criticism he generally held to his 
'Yankee rights of pronunciation.' However, for his very 
faults we love him, for they prove him true. He did not 
possess Longfellow's cosmopolitan culture, nor Lowell's 
affluent knowledge of literature, nor Holmes's iridescent 
wit, but his spontaneous directness and grand sincerity 
give to his poetry an effectiveness that art alone cannot 
command." — Ahernethy's Literature. 

2. "Men of letters respect his work for its sincerity, 
simplicity, and downright manliness, and average readers^ 
of poetry respect it because they can understand it. There 
is not a grown man or woman in the land who does not 
readily enter into the aspiration and discontent of Maud 
Muller, and into the glowing patriotism of Barbara 
Frietchie. Whether the incident which is the inspiration 
of the latter ever occurred is more than doubtful ; never- 
theless, the poem is one that the world will not willingly 
let die." — Stoddard. 

3. "To all of us, what Whittier sings is dear. For he 
sings. The tune is simple ; but the notes are fresh and 



62 



STTJDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



clear, the melody has the thrill of the robin's and the 
wood thrush's songs, the feeling is that of the genuine 
lyric that comes from the heart, and, therefore, goes to 
it." — Prof. Carpenter. 

4. ''Of the New England poets Whittier owed least 
to the culture of books and society. He lived all his life 
in close contact with humble workers with the hand ; 
he would not have breathed naturally in the intellectual 
atmosphere of Cambridge; he had little companionship 
with scholars and the world's great men, but the men 
who followed the plow and built stone walls were his 
brothers. He loved better to discuss politics with his 
neighbors in the village store than to meet the literary 
people of Boston in Mrs. Fields's parlors. . . . He 
was shy and reticent among strangers, but was not un- 
social by nature nor a hermit by choice ; delicate health 
accounts for much of his recluseness. He knew Europe 
only through books, and was never any farther from 
home than Washington. He was never in a theater. He 
clung to the ungrammatical Quaker pronouns, and at- 
tended faithfully the old-fashioned Quaker meeting of 
solemn silences. He occasionally smiled at his Quaker 
coat when blowing his 'battle trumpet'." — Selected from 
Ahernethy's Literature. 

5. He gives a true caricature of himself in his Tent 
on the Beach: — 

A silent, shy, peace-loving man, 
He seemed no fiery partisan. 

And again, in the Proem: — 
I love the old melodious lays 
Which softly melt the ages through, 
The songs of Spenser's golden days, 



JOHN GEEENLEAF WHITTIER 



63 



Arcadian Sidney's silvery phrase, 
Sprinkling our noon time with freshest morning dew. 

Yet, vainly in my quiet hours 
To breathe their marvelous notes I try; 

I feel them, as the leaves and flowers 

In silence feel the dewy showers, 
And drink with glad, still lips the blessing of the sky. 

REFERENCES. 

Life and Letters of John Greenleaf Whittier, Pickard. 
J. G. Whittier, the Poet of Freedom, Kennedy. 
Personal Recollections of Whittier, Mary B. Claiin. 
Authors at Home, Gilder. 
Poets of America, Stedmm. 
Pen Pictures of Modern Authors, Shepard. 
Home Life of Great Authors, Mrs. Griswold. 
Whittier, Prophet, Seer and Man, Flower. 

poet's tributes. 

To Whittier, on His Seventy-fifth Birthday, /. R, 

Lowell. 

For Whittier's Seventieth Birthday, O. W. Holmes. 
J. G. W., Lucy Larcom. 

To Whittier on His Eightieth Birthday, 0. W. Holmes. 

A Friend's Greeting, Bayard Taylor. 

John Greenleaf Whittier, Phoebe Gary. 

The Three Silences of Molinos, Longfellow. 

To the Poet, Whittier, Hayne. 

Whittier, E. S. Phelps. 

J. G. Whittier, Grojich. 

In Memory of J. G. Whittier, 0. W. Holmes. 



64: 



STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITEEATURE 



QUESTIONS ON WHITTIER. 

1. Write ten sentences descriptive of Whittier's life. 

2. Write four Whittier memory gems. 

3. Name five of his poems. 

4. What poem of Whittier's do you b'ke best ? Why ? 

5. Paraphrase one of Whittier's poems. Your choice. 

6. Describe Whittier's Family Circle. 

7. What educational advantages did he have? 

8. Why are the poems of the Quaker poet so 
popular ? 

9. In what poems do the following stanzas occur? — 

Still memory to a gray-haired man 

That sweet child-face is showing. 
Dear girl! the grasses on her grave 

Have forty years been growing. 

Give every child his right of school 
Merge private greed in public good, 

And spare a treasury overfull 

The tax upon a poor man's food? 

The west-winds blow, and singing low, 

I hear the glad streams run; 
The windows of my soul I throw 

Wide open to the sun. 

10. Name Whittier's first poem. His last poem. 



JAMES EUSSELL LOWELL 



65 



JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 
1819 — 1891. 
''Oiir most cosmopolitan poet." 

He is one of the noblest and manliest men that ever lived. 

— Longfellow. 

If Lowell be not, first of all, an original genius, I know not 
where to look for one. — E. C. Stedman. 

LOWELL is universally regarded as our chief man of 
letters. 'Toet, reformer, humorist, essayist, critic, 
orator, statesman, and distinguished citizen, his noble 
life shames us into higher thinking and truer living," 
says Prof. Irish, ''and many of his poems thrill and in- 
spire like bugle-calls to battle and strains of martial 
music : 

Get but the truth once uttered, and 'tis like 
A star new-born, that drops into its place, 
And which, once circling in its placid round, 
Not all the tumult of the earth can shake. 

He 's true to God who 's true to man ; wherever wrong is done, 
To the humblest and the weakest, 'neath the all-beholding sun, 
That wrong is also done to us; and they are slaves most base, 
Whose love of right is for themselves, and not for all their race. 

Thej are slaves who fear to speak 

For the fallen and the weak; 

They are slaves who will not choose 

Hatred, scofl&ng and abuse, 

Eather than in silence shrink 

From the truth they needs must think; 

They are slaves who dare not be 

In the right with two or three. 



66 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



James Russell Lowell was born at "Elmwood," Cam- 
bridge, Mass., February 22, 1819, the anniversary of 
Washington's birth. His father was a Congregational 
minister of much ability. His mother was a Scotch lady 
of great intelligence. She was a fine linguist and had a 
passionate fondness for ancient songs and ballads. The 
old songs sung over the cradle of the young poet were 
repeated by him in early school days until poetic lore and 
taste were as natural to him as the bodily senses. 

It seldom occurs that a man will be born, live and die 
in the same house, but this was the case with Lowell; 
the only time he was away from Elmwood for any great 
period was during his public service abroad. Elmwood 
was a stately old colonial mansion with four rooms on a 
floor and surrounded by ample grounds which ex- 
tended almost to the gateway of Mt. Auburn cemetery. 
Harvard College was only a mile distant, and Long- 
fellow's home was near at hand. ''Elmwood was an 
ideal place for a poet's birth and education ; within was 
a well-stocked library and a family life of culture and 
high aims ; without were extensive grounds abounding 
in the wild beauty of native trees and flowers and singing 
birds." In his memorial, Elmzvood, Aldrich says : — 

So in her arms did Mother Nature fold 
Her poet, whispering what of wild and sweet 
Into his ear — the state-affairs of birds, 
The lore of dawn and sunset, what the wind 
Said in the treetops — fine, unfathomed things 
Henceforth to turn to music in his brain." 

The poet himself gives delightful glimpses of his home 
in Cambridge Thirty Years Ago, Under the Willows 



JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL 



67 



and An Indian Summer Reverie. In his poem, An 
Inmtation, he writes : — 

Kindlier to me the place of birth 

That first my tottering footsteps trod; 

There may be fairer spots of earth, 

But all their glories are not worth 
The virtue of the native sod. 

Lowell's early education was received in a boys' school 
kept by William Wells, a near neighbor to Elmwood. 
He also studied at Ingraham's Classical College in Bos- 
ton. At the age of sixteen he entered Harvard College. 
He was but an ordinary scholar, much preferring reading 
and dabbling in literature to studying his text-books. He 
graduated in 1838, and had the honor of being class poet. 
While in college he was secretary of the "Hasty Pudding 
Society," and one of the editors of the college periodical, 
"Harvardian," to which he contributed articles in both 
prose and verse. 

Lowell's first volume of poems, A Year's Life, ap- 
peared in 1841, when he was twenty-one years of age. 
The poems savored of love and romance, and were in- 
spired by love for a beautiful young lady, Miss Maria 
White, who became his wife in 1844. 

Blessing she is : God made her so, 

And deeds of week-day holiness 
Fall from her as noiseless as the snow, 
Nor hath she ever chanced to know 

That aught were easier than to bless. 

Mrs. Lowell, herself a writer of sweet and tender 
verse, was a lady of refined womanly instinct and rare 
perfection of character, eminently fitted to be the com- 



68 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



panion of a poet. Through her influence Lowell was 
led into full sympathy with the abolition movement. As 
his soul became fired with the new cause his poetry 
changed from conventional verse to strains of original 
strength which sounded the alarm of national duty and 
danger. Such writings as his poems on Palfrey, Phil- 
lips, and Garrison, The Present Crisis, Stanzas on Free- 
dom, and others, mark the progress of his patriotic pas- 
sion. In his thrilling lines On the Capture of Certain 
Fugitive Slaves he says : — 

I first drew in New England's air, and from her hardy breast 
Sucked in the tyrant-hating milk that will not let me rest; 
And if my words seem treason to the dullard and the tame, 
'Tis but my Bay-State dialect, — our fathers spake the same! 

In 1846 the first paper of his splendid patriotic out- 
burst in the series, The Biglow Papers, outlined in both 
poetry and verse, appeared and disclosed to the world 
his brilliant and unsuspected satiric genius. From the 
mouth of Hosea Biglow, represented as a shrewd- 
witted down-East Yankee, the poet administered a sting- 
ing rebuke to the dominant party at the North, of which 
Webster was a leader, for yielding to southern demands, 
especially in the matter of the Mexican War, which he 
looked upon as "a national crime, committed in behalf 
of slavery" : — 

Massachusetts, God forgive her, 

She's a kneelin' with the rest, 
She, thet ough' to ha' clung forever 

In her grand old eagle-nest. 

In succeeding papers the poet held up to public ridicule 
and indignation, with clever hits and keen sarcasm, the 



JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL 



69 



impotence and sham of public men and events. The 
whimsical prefaces were mostly from the pen of the Rev. 
Homer Wilbur, a figure conceived to express the more 
cautious element of the New England character and its 
pedantry. Mr. Biglow always represented the Yankee's 
common-sense vivified and heated by conscience, and 
Mr. Birdofredum Sawin, another poetical caricature, de- 
livered mere drollery. He was, as the poet said, ''the 
clown in his little puppet-show." Soon the scorned 
abolitionists were "upon the laughing side," and their 
popular campaign song, What Mr. Robinson Thinks, 
became everywhere known. It was the lines which in- 
spired this, first quoted by a member of ParHament in 
the House of Commons, that drew the attention of Eng- 
land to Lowell's satire : — 

Parson Wilbur says he never heerd in his life 

Thet th' Apostles rigged out in their swaller-tail coats, 
An' marched round in front of a drum an' a fife, 
To git some on 'em office, an' some on 'em votes; 
But John P. 
Robinson he 

Sez they didn't know everything down in Judee. 

In The Pious Editors Creed Mr. Biglow frankly 
expressed his beliefs and opinions to the effect that — 
'Tibbaty's a kind o' thing thet don't agree with niggers ; 
a deep reverence for Uncle Sam, particularly his pock- 
ets ; any sort o' plan fer levyin' taxes thet gits jest whut 
I axes ; free-trade through thick an' thin, because it 
rouses folks to vote ; the freedom of the great press. 

An' withered be the nose thet pokes 
Inter the gov'ment printin'! 



70 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



a firm belief in prayer and praise, especially in cantin ; 
a conviction to give whut's his'n unto Caesar ; 

1 don't believe in princerple, 
But, O, I du in interest, 

a belief in any sort of plan to ketch the people nappin' ; 
find out which princerples pays the best an' then go in 
baldheaded ; a behef that holdin' slaves comes nat'ral to 
a presidunt ; a conviction that he could not ask for any 
sort of office without he'd been through dry an' wet, th' 
unrizzest kind o' doughface; and last of all — 

Thet bombshells, grape, an' powder 'n ball 

Air good- will's strongest magnets; 
Thet peace to make it stick at all. 

Must be druv in with bagnets. 

In short, I firmly du believe 

In humbug generally, 
Fer it's a thing that I perceive 

To hev a solid vally; 

This hath my faithful shepherd ben. 

In pastures sweet hath led me, 
And this '11 keep the people green 

To feed ez they hev fed me. 

Mr. Biglow has a firm conviction that a politician 
should talk honestly, and his favorite candidate says: — 

''Ez to my princerples, I glory 
In hevin' nothin' o' the sort; 
I ain't a wig, I ain't a Tory, 
I'm jest a candidate, in short." 
Mr. Sawin, too, has this belief, and further advises: 
A ginooine statesman should be on his guard, 
Ef he must hev beliefs, nut to b 'lieve 'em tu hard. 



JAMES EUSSELL LOWELL 



71 



A second series of the Biglow Papers appeared dur- 
ing the Civil War. This contained the world-famous 
Jonathan to John, a protest against England's hostile 
attitude, based upon the Mason and Slidell affair: — 
We own the ocean tu, John: 

You mus'n take it hard, 
Ef we can't think with you, John, 

It's jest your own back yard. 
Old Uncle S. sez he, * ' I guess, 
Ef thet's his claim," sez he, 
''The fencin '-stuff '11 cost enough 
To bust up friend J. B., 

Ez wal ez you an' me." 

* * * * 

We gin the critters back, John, 

Cos Abram thought 'twas right ^ 
It warn't your bullyin' clack, John, 

Provokin' us to fight. 
Ole Uncle S. sez he, *'I guess 
We've a hard row," sez he, 
"To hoe just now; but thet, somehow, 
May happen to J. B., 
Ez wal ez you an ' me. ' ' 
Mr. Lowell varied his political satire by frequent 
strains of true lyric power, and by two poems of sur- 
passing worth — The Coiirtin' and Sunthin in the Pas- 
toral Line. Stedman pronounced the former "without a 
counterpart ; no richer juice can be pressed from the wild 

grape of the Yankee soil" — '- 

God makes sech nights, all white an ' still 

Fur 'z you can look or listen. 
Moonshine an' snow on field an' hill. 

All silence an' all glisten. 

***** 

She heerd a foot an' kuowed it, tu, 
A-raspin' on the scraper; 



73 STTJDIES IN AMERICAN LITEEATUEE 



All ways to once her feelin's flew 
Like sparks in burnt-up paper. 

He kin' o' I'itered on the mat, 

Some doubtfle o' the seekle; 
His heart kep' goin' pittypat, 

But her'n went pity Zekle. 

In Sunthin' in the Pastoral Line we get a delightful 
outpouring of the poet's full-hearted love of nature. 
Hear what he sings of the bobolink : — 

Half hid in tip-top apple-blooms he swings, 

Or climbs against the breeze with quiverin' wings, 

Or, givin' way to 't in a mock despair, 

Euns down, a brook of laughter thru the air. 

Political satire is generally short-lived, but Lowell 
conceived a masterpiece in his Biglonf Papers. He ren- 
dered the Yankee dialect and character with a complete- 
ness that has been unapproached. He once wrote to an 
editorial friend : — 

You're in want 'o sunthin' light an' cute, 

Eattlin' an' shrewd an' kin o' jingleish. 
An' wish, pervidin' it 'ould suit, 

I'd take an' citify my English. ^ 
I hen write long-tailed, ef I please,== 

But when I'm jokin', no, I thankee; 
Then 'fore I know it, my idees 

Eun helter-skelter into Yankee. 

A Fable for Critics, a series of portraits in rollicking 
verse touching upon the characteristics of his literary 
compatriots, and The Vision of Sir Launfal, an allegori- 
cal treatment of the legend of the Holy Grail, were 
issued in the same year as The Biglozv Papers. 

For several years Mrs. Lowell was a semi-invalid, 
and in 185 1 Lowell took his family abroad, with the 



JAMES BUSSELL LOWELL 



73 



hope of benefitting his wife's health, which was much 
broken by sorrow for her little daughters Blanche and 
Rose, who lay in Mt. Auburn. While sojourning in 
Rome the grief-stricken parents were called upon to part 
with their dear only son, Walter. The shock was too 
great for Mrs. Lowell, and a short time after their 
return to Elmwood she was laid beside her little daugh- 
ters. In a pathetic poem. The Dead House, Lowell told 
of their years of precious companionship and of his ter- 
rible loneliness after her departure : — 

'Twas a smile, 'twas a garment's rustle, 

'Twas nothing that I can phrase, 
But the whole dumb dwelling grew conscious, 

And put on her looks and ways. 

* * * * 

For it died that autumn morning 

When she, its soul, was borne 
To lie all dark on the hillside 

That looks over woodland and corn. 

Lowell succeeded Longfellow in the chair of belles- 
lettres in Harvard University in 1854, and was granted 
leave of absence to more fitly prepare himself for his 
work. He studied in Europe, chiefly at Dresden, for 
two years, and then returned to Cambridge to take up 
his work. He was especially fitted for his position, and 
his literary lectures delighted his cultivated audiences, 
and still continue to delight his readers in the two vol- 
umes. Political and Literary Addresses and The Old 
English Dramatists. 

During his absence in Europe Lowell entrusted the 
care and education of his daughter to Miss Frances Dun- 
lap, of Portland, Maine, a highly cultivated lady of 
exemplary character, whom he married in 1857. About 



74 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



this time also he was appointed first editor of the Atlan- 
tic Monthly. In 1862, in connection with Prof. Norton, 
he became joint editor of the North American Review, 
a position which he held for ten years. The essays which 
he contributed to these periodicals were collected and 
issued under the titles Among My Books, Fireside 
Travels, and From My Study Windows. 

In 1876 Mr. Lowell was appointed minister to Spain, 
and four years later was transferred to England. "No 
American ever enjoyed a more gracious and distin- 
guished reception among the English people, whose un- 
bounded admiration he won through a wise administra- 
tion of his official trust, an engaging personality, and an 
extraordinary felicity in public speaking." 

Lowell's last days were spent in his grand old library 
at Elmwood. He loved to sit by the window where he 
could see the River Charles slowly winding its way 
through distant hills and meadows. Here in his large 
easy chair he would write with a stifif piece of cardboard 
resting on his knees for a desk. And here 
Again he watched 
His loved syringa whitening by th^ door, 
And knew the catbird's welcome. 

Mr. Lowell died early one ^summer morning, August 
12, 1891. His body was laid to rest in Mt. Auburn 
close beside the graves of his loved ones, and only a 
short distance from the grave of Longfellow. 

MEMORY GEMS FROM LOWELL. 
(The pupil should learn one gem each day while 
studying Lowell.) 

"Truth forever on the scaffold, wrong forever on the 
throne ; 



JAMES EUSSELL LOWELL 



75 



Yet that scaffold sways the future, and behind the dim 
unknown 

Standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch above 
his own." 

^'Reading new books is like eating new bread, 
One can bear it at first, but by gradual steps he 
Is brought to death's door of a mental dyspepsy." 

''Folks thet worked thorough was the ones thet thriv, 
But bad work follers ye ez long's ye live : 
You can't get red on't; jest as sure as sin, 
It's oilers askin' to be done ag'in." 

"No man is born into the world whose work 
Is not born with him ; there is always work. 
And tools to work, withal, for those who will ; 
And blessed are the horny hands of toil." 

"Once to every man and nation comes the moment to 
decide, 

In the strife of Truth with Falsehood, for the good or 
evil side ; 

Some great cause, God's new Messiah, offering each the 

bloom or blight, 
Parts the goats upon the left hand, and the sheep upon 

the right, 

And the choice goes by forever 'twixt that darkness and 
that light." 

(Find the above quotations in Lowell's writings. 
Pupils may readily find more gems for memorizing.) 



76 STUDIES IN A]^ERICAN LITEEATURE 



A PARTIAL LIST OF LOWELL S WRITINGS FOR REFERENCE. 



A Year's Life. 
Conversations on Some of 

the Old Poets. 
The Vision of Sir Launfal. 
A Fable for Critics. 
The Heritage. 
The Shepherd of King Ad- 

metus. 
Ambrose. 

The First Snowfall. 
Hunger and Cold. 
Prometheus. 



The Cathedral. 

A Legend of Brittany. 

Yussouf. 

The Biglow Papers. 

Under the Willows. 

The Fatherland. 

Aladdin. 

Longing. 

In the Twilight. 

The Bobolink. 

Columbus. 

The Harvard Ode. 



NOTES ON Lowell's writings. 

1. "The complete product of Lowell's genius, in verse 
and prose, is comparatively small. He wrote reluctantly, 
needing the spur of some great cause or occasion 
to arouse his best creative energies. He loved to indulge 
in literary lotus-eating, feasting his intellect, ripening 
and mellowing his thought through continued converse 
with other minds. When expression came it was the 
choicest essence, distilled from the lavish abundance of 
his knowledge. 'My eggs take long in hatching,' he says 
in a letter, ''because I need to brood a good while.' " — 
Aherncthy's Literature. 

2. The tender poems, She Came and Went, The 
Changeling, and The First Snozv-fall, v/ere written after 
the death of little Blanche, the poet's first-born. After 
the Burial was written after ]Mt. Auburn received little 
Rose. 



JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL 



77 



3. Under the Willozvs,^'^h.\Qh appeared in 1869, con- 
tained many of the poet's best poems, among them being 
Sunthin' in a Pastoral Line, Winter Evening Hymn to 
My Fire, Aiif Wiedersehen, Palinode, and In the Twi- 
light, Heartsease and Rue, which appeared in 1888, 
contained his great memorial elegy, Agassis, which critics 
have considered fitting to place beside Milton's Lycidas. 

4. Lowell's most exalted verse is contained in his four 
patriotic odes, — Commemoration Ode, written in memory 
of the sons of Harvard who perished in the Civil War, 
and containing a matchless tribute to Lincoln; Concord, 
The Fourth of July, and Under the Old Elm, containing 
a beautiful tribute to Washington. 

5. In order to appreciate Rhoecus one should famil- 
iarize himself with the exquisite myths about nymphs 
and naiads, and consider as fully as possible the Greek 
deities associated with objects of nature. A large amount 
of mediaeval legend and mythology also enters into the 
composition of The Vision of Sir Launfal and The Fable 
for Critics. 

6. Lowell had a deep and genuine love of nature. 
He, once wrote: "I think nature grows more and more 
beautiful and companionable as one grows older, and the 
earth more motherly-tender to one who will ask to sleep 
in her lap so soon." The writings nearest to Nature's 
heart are My Garden Acquaintance, An Invitation, An 
Indian Summer Reverie, Pictures from Appledore, the 
sonnet L' Envoi, Al Fresco, and parts of The Vision of 
Sir Launfal. 

THE FIEST SNOW-FALL. 
The snow had begun in the gloaming, * 
And busily all the night 



STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITERATURE 



Had been heaping field and highway 
With a silence deep and white. 

Every pine and fir and hemlock 
Wore ermine too dear for an earl, 

And the poorest twig on the elm tree 
Was ridged inch deep with pearl. 

From sheds new roofed with Carrara 
Came Chanticleer's muffled crow, 

The stiff rails were softened to swan's down, 
And still fluttered down the snow. 

I stood and watched by the window 

The noiseless work of the sky, 
And the sudden flurries of snow-birds. 

Like brown leaves whirling by. 

I thought of a mound in sweet Auburn, 
Where a little headstone stood ; 

How the flakes were folding it gently. 
As did robins the babes in the wood. 

Up spoke our little Mable, 

Saying, ''Father, who makes it snow?" 
And I told of the good All-Father 

Who cares for us here below. 

Again I looked at the snow-fall. 
And thought of the leaden sky 

That arched o'er our first great sorrow. 
When that mound was heaped so high. 

I remembered the gradual patience 
That fell from that cloud like snow, 



JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL 



79 



Flake by flake, healing and hiding 
The scar of our deep-plunged woe. 

And again to the child I whispered, * 

'The snow that husheth all,. 
Darling, the merciful father 

Alone can make it fall !" 

Then, with eyes that saw not, I kissed her, 
And she, kissing back, could not know 

That my kiss was given her sister, 
Folded close under deepening snow. 

DIRECTIONS FOR STUDY. 

I. Commit the poem to memory. Explain the figure 
of speech in the second stanza. Also, Carrara, 
Chanticleer's, Auburn, The scar of our deep- 
plunged woe, sudden Hurries of snow-birds, 
noiseless work of the sky, the leaden sky that 
arched o'er our Hrst great sorrow, etc. 
II. Paraphrase the poem. Show the analogy between 
the cloud of the poet's sorrow and the leaden sky. 
HI. What instance inspired this poem? 
IV. Divide the poem into description and theme. Make 

a list of the expressions used to name snow. 
V. Select similes and metaphors. 

THE HERITAGE. 

The rich man's son inherits lands, ^ 
And piles of brick, and stone, and gold, 
And he inherits soft white hands. 
And tender flesh that fears the cold. 
Nor dares to wear a garment old; 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 

A heritage it seems to me, 

One scarce would wish to hold in fee. 

The rich man's son inherits cares ; 
The bank may break, the factory burn, 
A breath may burst his bubble shares, 
And soft, white hands could hardly earn 
A living that would serve his turn ; 
A heritage, it seems to me. 
One scarce would wish to hold in fee. 

The rich man's son inherits wants. 

His stomach craves for dainty fare ; 

With sated heart he hears the pants 

Of toiling hinds with brown arms bare, 

And wearies in his easy chair; 

A heritage it seems to me, 

One scarce would wish to hold in fee. 

What doth the poor man's son inherit? 

Stout muscles and a sinewy heart, 

A hardy frame, a hardier spirit; 

King of two hands, he does his part 

In every useful toil and art ; 

A heritage, it seems to me, 

A king might wish to hold in fee. 

What doth the poor man's son inherit? 

Wishes o'erjoyed with humble things, 

A rank adjudged by toil-worn merit, 

Content that from employment springs, 

A heart that in his labor sings ; 

A heritage, it seems to me, 

A king might wish to hold in fee. 



JAMES EUSSELL LOWELL 

What doth the poor man's son inherit 

A patience learn'd of being poor, 

Courage, if sorrow come, to bear it, 

A fellow-feeHng that is sure 

To make the outcast bless his door ; 

A heritage, it seems to me, 

A king might wish to hold in fee. 

O rich man's son ! there is a toil, 

That with all others level stands; 

Large charity doth never soil. 

But only whiten, soft, white hands, — 

This is the best crop from thy lands; 

A heritage, it seems to me, 

Worth being rich to hold in fee. 

O poor man's son ! scorn not thy state ; 
There is worse weariness than thine, 
In merely being rich and great; 
Toil only gives the soul to shine, 
And makes rest fragrant and benign; 
A heritage, it seems to me. 
Worth being poor to hold in fee. 

Both, heirs to some six feet of sod. 
Are equal in the earth at last; 
Both, children of the same dear God, 
Prove title to your heirship vast 
By record of a well-filled past; 
A heritage, it seems to me. 
Well worth a life to hold in fee. 

DIRECTIONS FOR STUDY. 

Read the poem carefully. 



32 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



II. What does the poet teach? 

III. Contrast the rich man's son and the poor man's 

son. 

IV. What reward is promised each? What is a 

heritage ? 

SUGGESTED WRITINGS FOR FURTHER READING AND STUDY. 

Commemoration Ode. The Fatherland. 

The Biglow Papers. The Shepherd of King Ad- 

A Fable for Critics. metus. 

In the Twilight. Longing. 

Yussoiif. Ambrose. 

My Garden Acquaintance. The Present Crisis. 

THE STUDY OF THE VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL. 

I. Read the poem carefully. It is divided by Pre- 
ludes and Parts into convenient passages for 
lessons. 

II. Tell the Legend of the Holy Grail. 

III. WVite a description of June time. (Prelude I.) 

IV. Write a description of December. (Prelude II.) 
V. Tell the story of the poem. Show the contrast 

between the strong, joyous, selfish youth, and 
the sympathetic, unselfish old man. 
VI. What lesson does the poem teach? 

VII. Explain the following: — hciiedicite, chanticleer, 
craters, pavilions, drawbridge, unscarred mail, 
forcst-crypt, fretzvork, arabesques, seneschal, 
barbed air, caravan, fortress, serf, earldom. 

Vlll. Select passages suitable for quotation. 

CRITICISMS. 

I. "Probably no American student was so versed in 
the old French romance, none knew Dante and the 



JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL 



83 



Italians more profoundly ; German literature was familiar 
to him, and perhaps even Ticknor, in his own domain of 
Spanish lore, was not more a master than Lowell. The 
whole range of English literature, not only its noble 
Elizabethan heights, but a delightful realm of pic- 
turesque and unfrequented paths, were his familiar park 
of pleasance. Yet he was not a scholarly recluse, a 
pedant, or a bookworm. The student of books was no 
less so acute and trained an observer of nature, so sensi- 
tive to the influences and aspects of out-of-door life that 
as Charles Briggs with singular insight said he was 
meant for a politician ; so Darwin, with frank admira- 
tion, said that he was born to be a naturaHst." 

— George William Curtis. 

2. In his Fable for Critics, Lowell gives the following 
half-serious portrait of himself: — 

"There is Lowell, who's striving Parnassus to climb 
With a whole bale of isms tied together with rhyme ; 
He might get on alone, spite of brambles and boulders, 
But he can't with that bundle he has on his shoulders ; 
The top of the hill he will ne'er come nigh reaching 
Till he learns the distinction 'twixt singing and preach- 
ing; 

His lyre has some chords that would ring pretty well. 
But he'd rather by half make a drum of the shell, 
And rattle away till he's old as Methusalem, 
At the head of a march to the last new Jerusalem." 

3. ''The life of Lowell presents a type of cultivated 
manhood that should be an inspiration to every Ameri- 
can. It is the best product of republican culture. It 
shows what breadth and beauty and richness of Hfe may 
be attained by the application to life of high ideals. 



84 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Viewing his character as an author, one is first impressed 
by the extent and variety of his powers. From a cam- 
paign song in dialect to a learned essay on Dante, an 
elegant change of compliments with royalty, or a poem 
expressing the profoundest experiences of the soul, he 
could pass with equal and masterly ease ; and with this 
splendid resourcefulness was always the quality of fresh- 
ness and genuineness, a perennial youthfulness of tone. 
Allied to this is the out-of-door atmosphere of his work. 
From youth to old age he was a lover of nature, espe- 
cially of the fresh, joyous, odorous spring; his finest 
thoughts rose with the 'high tide' of June. Wit and 
humor fill his writings like sunshine. The allegro ele- 
ment of his genius is always breaking out in ''quips and 
cranks and wanton wiles," even sometimes at the expense 
of taste. Both verse and prose are heavily freighted 
with the rich stores of scholarship and thinking, and for 
this reason Lowell can never be popular in the sense that 
Irving and Longfellow are popular." — Selected from 
Ahernethys American Literature. 

REFERENCES. 

James Russell Lowell, Scudder. 
The Poet and the Man, Underwood. 
Letters of James Russell Lowell, Norton. 
Poets of America, Stedman. 
Builders of American Literature. 
Lowell and His Friends, E. E. Hale. 

poets' tributes. 

Herons of Elmwood, Longfellozv. 
Elmwood, Aldricn. 




WILLIAM! CULLEN BRYANT. 



WILLIAM CTJLLEN BRYANT 



85 



J. R. L. on his Fiftieth Birthday, and To J. R. L. on 

his Homeward Voyage, Cranch. 

Home — Welcome to Lowell, Margaret Preston. 
A Welcome to Lowell, Whittier. 

To J. R. Lowell ; At a Birthday Festival ; Farewell to 
J. R. Lowell, Holmes. 

QUESTIONS ON LOWELL. 

1. Give the main facts of Lowell's life — public and 
private. 

2. Why are his poems less generally read than Long- 
fellow's or Whittier's? 

3. Give the legend on which the vision of Sir Launfal 
is founded. Which part of this poem do you like better 
— the nature study or the story? Why? 

4. What was the plan of A Fable for Critics f 

5. Tell what you know of the Biglow Papers. Write 
four quotations from them. 

6. Name six poems. Classify them as to nature, 
memorial, etc. Quote four passages. 

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 

1 794-1878. 

"The Pioneer Poet." 

"The Wordsworth of America.'' 

"The Father of American Poetry." 

Bryant's writings transport us into the depths of the solemn 
primeval forest, to the shores of the lonely lake, the banks of the 
wild, nameless stream, or the brow of the rocky upland, rising 
like a promontory from amidst a wide ocean of foliage; while 
they shed around us the glories of a climate fierce in its extremes, 
but splendid in all its vicissitudes. — Irving. 



86 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATUEE 



Bryant's writings lead us away from trifling pleas- 
ures, and from the cares and worries of life to rest- 
ful groves, ennobling thoughts, and richer enjoyments. 
He was the landscape poet of New England scenery, the 
interpreter to man of the sights, sounds, and music of 
''Nature's teachings." He communed with Nature, and 
to him she revealed her most secret thoughts. 

While I stood 
In Nature's loneliness, I was with on© 
With whom I early grew familiar, one 
Who never had a frown for me, whose voice 
Never rebuked me for the hours I stole 
From cares I loved not, but of which the world 
Deems highest, to converse with her. 

He saw more than the beautiful in Nature ; he read 
her deep spiritual teachings, and proclaimed to his 
friends, and to the world, her ability to soothe the feel- 
ings, purify the heart, and ennoble the mind. 

The calm shade 
Shall bring kindred calm, and the sweet breeze 
That makes the green leaves dance, shall waft a balm 
To thy sick heart. Thou wilt find nothing here 
Of all that pained thee in the haunts of men, 
And made thee loathe thy life. 

William Cullen Bryant was born in Cummington, Mas- 
sachusetts, November 3, 1794. His father, Doctor Peter 
Bryant, a physician, whose father and grandfather had 
been physicians, was a descendant of the Mayflower 
Company. He was a man of ability and high literary 
culture. He early recognized his son's talent, and taught 
him the value of correctness and expression. The feel- 
ing and reverence with which Bryant cherished the 



WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT 



87 



memory of his father whose life was "Marked with some 
act of goodness every day," is touchingly alluded to in 
several of his poems, and directly spoken of in his 
Hymn to Death: — 

Alas! I little thought that the stern power 

Whose fearful praise I sung, would try me thus 

Before the strain was ended. It must cease — 

For he is in his grave who taught my youth 

The art of verse, and in the bud of life 

Offered me to the Muses. Oh, cut off 

Untimely! when thy reason in its strength, 

Ripened by years of toil and studious search 

And watch of Nature's silent lessons, taught 

Thy hand to practice best the lenient art 

To which thou gavest thy laborious days, 

And, last, thy life. And, therefore, when the earth 

Received thee, tears were in unyielding eyes, 

And on hard cheeks, and they who deemed thy skill 

Delayed their death hour, shuddered and turned pale 

When thou wert gone. This faltering verse which thou 

Shall not, as wont, overlook, is all I have 

To offer at thy grave — this — and the hope 

To copy thy example. 

Bryant's mother was Sarah Snell, a descendant of John 
Alden and Priscilla, from whom Longfellow was also 
descended. She was a woman of piety and domestic 
worth, and the poet doubtless owed to her and to her 
influences many of his own sturdy and exemplary char- 
acteristics. Indeed, the social and domestic environment 
of thQ ppet in his youth was in every way conducive to 
earnestness of purpose, nobility of aim, and sobriety of 
conduct. 

Bryant was a precocious child. He learned Latin and 
Greek from his mother's brother, a clergyman who 



88 STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITEEATUEE 



greatly influenced his youth. At the age of ten, he made 
translations from the Latin authors which were pub- 
lished ; and at thirteen he wrote The Embargo, a political 
satire of some merit. When he was sixteen, he entered 
Williams College, where he studied for one year, and left 
with the intention of finishing his course at Yale. How- 
ever, his father was too poor to provide the necessary 
means, so the young man studied diligently at home. 
After a time he began to study law ; again his poverty 
hampered him and he was obliged to content himself 
with such knowledge as he could obtain in a country law 
office near home. He was admitted to the bar at the 
age of twenty-one, and wished to establish himself in 
Boston, where he would have greater opportunities for 
working up, but poverty prevented. He practiced in 
Plainfield one year, and in Great Barrington, a more 
important place, nine years. 

In 1 82 1 Bryant married Frances Fairchild, and for 
forty-five years she was his best-loved companion, his 
most intimate and dearest friend, his chief literary 
adviser. The Future Life, one of the noblest and most 
pathetic of his poems, is addressed to her : — 

In meadows fanned by heaven's life-breathing wind, 
In the resplendence of that glorious sphere 

And larger movements of the unfettered mind, 
Wilt thou forget the love that joined us here? 

Will not thy own meek heart demand me there, — 
The heart whose fondest throbs to me' were given? 

My name on earth was ever in thy prayer, 
And wilt thou never utter it in heaven? 

Other poems in which the poet refers to his wife are: 
A Summer Ramble, The Snow-Shower, A Dream, The 



WILLIAM CULLEN BEYANT 



89 



Life That Is, A Sick-Bed, The Bath, The Twenty-sev- 
enth of March, The Cloud on the Way, A Lifetime, and 
May Evening. Mr. and Mrs. Bryant were the parents 
of two children, Fanny and Julia. The former is spoken 
of in his Lines on Revisiting the Country, the latter in 
An Invitation to the Country. 

Bryant gave up law for literature in 1825. Since early 
boyhood he had been writing rhymes and dreaming lit- 
erary dreams, but he had not succeeded in producing 
anything to rival his Thanatopsis, written at the age of 
nineteen, and his To a Waterfowl, at the age of twenty- 
one. Indeed, he never succeeded in surpassing these 
early poems, yet he never wrote much below them. He 
had a high literary aim, and frequently revised his MS. 
over and over. He thought Thanatopsis of too little 
merit to submit it to an editor, but his father thought 
differently. Doctor Bryant found the MS. while rum- 
maging among some old papers in his son's desk. He 
wept with joy when he found that they were *'Cullen's," 
and at once sent them to the North American Review, 
without consulting his son, who was then practicing law 
at Great Barrington. So notable a poem had never been 
written before by one so young. When the editors of 
the Review first read it they thought that the fond father 
had in some way been deceived. *'No one on this side 
of the Atlantic," said they, ''is capable of writing such 
verse." When it was pubHshed, September, 181 7, the 
young author was at once recognized as one of the fore- 
most poets of his country. One year later, the lines 
To a Waterfowl appeared in the same periodical. From 
that time forward Bryant's success was assured, and 
there was not an editor in the country who would not 



90 STODIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



have welcomed his poems. However, when he submitted 
his immortal masterpiece, Gladness of Nature, to a Bos- 
ton editor a few years later, poetry was such a poorly- 
paid-for product that he felt warranted in asking only 
$2 for it ! He often said that if he had kept to poetry as 
a means of livelihood he would have starved. 

In 1826, Bryant became assistant editor of the New 
York Evening Post. Three years later, he was made 
chief editor, and, through the help of a friend, who 
loaned him $2,cxD0, he was able to buy a half-interest in 
the paper. For a long time the Post was not a success, 
Bryant was several times on the point of abandoning 
literature as he had done law, and of seeking his for- 
tunes in the far West. But he could not find a purchaser 
for his interest in the paper ; his property was absolutely 
unsaleable, and he was forced to continue in the business. 
It was a critical time for a paper, but Bryant so conducted 
the Evening Post that it became an important factor in 
the literary, moral, and political development of the nation. 
He never forgot that he was an acknowledged represent- 
ative of American letters, and he became one of the most 
readable, most forcible, most interesting and most con- 
vincing writers of his time. But, after all, style, finish 
and accuracy of expression were not the qualities that 
distinguished his editorial output; his paper was every- 
where known for its moral earnestness. ''He strove to 
support principles, not to advance politicians. He com- 
bated error and wrong, not men. And he followed his 
convictions unflinchingly to their end, no matter where 
they led him. When his opposition to slavery cost him 
the loss of support of influential commercial interests he 
witnessed the advertisements drop out from his paper, 



WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT 



91 



the names from his subscription Hst, without a tremor. 
When his advocacy of 'sound money' ahenated from 
him the sympathy of another set of patrons he calmly 
witnessed their desertion." But through all, his char- 
acter for sturdy honesty of opinion remained. Even 
when his paper was most unpopular because of its opin- 
ions he himself was everywhere regarded as symbolical 
of integrity, justice, and truth. Abraham Lincoln once 
said it was "worth a journey across the continent to see 
such a man." For over twenty years, Bryant had only 
one editorial assistant; his work was very hard and his 
remuneration small. It was several years before he was 
able to bring his family from their home in the country 
to live with him in the city. However, hard work, abil- 
ity, and character triumphed ; the tide turned and the 
Evening Post became a paying property. At his death, 
his half interest was worth nearly half a million ; it had 
made him one of the richest authors of modern times. 

Bryant was an extensive traveler, having crossed the 
ocean six times, visited the South twice, and toured 
through Mexico and Cuba. In 1843, he purchased a 
summer home called ''Cedarmere" at Roslyn, Long 
Island. Mrs. Bryant died in this home, July 27, 1866. 
The poet never ceased to love the scenes of his child- 
hood. A longing for the quiet old mountains, beautiful 
valleys, and the rivulet, that 

Oft to its warbling waters drew 
My little feet, when life was new. 

frequently brought the poet to his old home. He tells 
of these visits in his poems. Lines on Revisiting the Coun-' 
try, An Invitation to the Country, A Summer Ramble, 
etc. 



92 STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITERATUBE 



The quiet August noon has come; 

A slumberous silence fills the sky, 
The fields are still, the woods are dumb, 

In glassy sleep the waters lie. 

And mark yon soft white clouds that rest 
Above our vale, a moveless throng; 

The cattle on the mountain's breast 
Enjoy the grateful shadow long. 

In his old age, Mr. Bryant purchased his boyhood 
home and fitted it up as a summer residence, where he 
spent many delightful weeks each season with his rela- 
tives and friends. To the loved village of Cummington 
he presented a substantial library building, located on a 
beautiful hillside, and six hundred volumes of choice 
works. He also built a neat home for the use of the 
librarian. 

Bryant's deep love for Nature naturally led him to 
write chiefly upon this subject. Thus, ''The oneness of 
the point of view, the sameness of vision, the absence of 
humor, of dramatic interest, and, in a great measure, of 
lyric beauty and power, are features and deficiencies 
which will ever prevent Bryant's poetry — excellent in its 
one field as it undoubtedly is — from being ranked with 
the great masters of poesy." Such poems as The Sum- 
mer Wind, The New Moon, The Snow-Shower, and A 
Forest Hymn are full of beautiful descriptions. His 
poetry abounds in sweet spiritual lessons ; for instance, 
in The Fringed Gentian, he teaches Christian hope; in 
To a Waterfowl, the beautiful lesson of Divine Provi- 
dence. 

He who, from zone to zone, 

Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight. 



WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT 



93 



In the long way that I must tread alone, 
Will lead my steps aright. 

Over half a century of the poet's busy life was passed 
in New York City, where he lived in the most methodical 
and exact manner. He took long walks every day, and 
never omitted his morning bath, or his gymnastic exer- 
cises before breakfast. His food was of the simplest 
character, mostly fruit and vegetables. He never drank 
tea and coffee, and he had nothing to do with tobacco 
in any form except, as he said, '*to quarrel with its use." 
He never did his editorial work at his home nor would 
he allow business or professional cares to engage his 
mind or attention there. He had a most remarkable 
memory and said that if given a little time he could 
recall every line of poetry that he had ever written — a 
sum total of about 13,000 lines. 

Bryant remained hale and hearty to the last, his death 
being caused by an over-exposure to the sun. He had 
been invited to give an address at the unveiling of the 
statue to Mazzini, the Italian patriot, in Central Park, 
and accepted most willingly for he was an effective, and 
accomplished orator. His discourse on the occasion was 
one of the best and most entertaining he ever made. On 
entering a friend's house after the festivities he fell 
senseless in the doorway; practically his life ended with 
the fall for, though he lingered for two weeks, he 
never fully regained consciousness. He died June 12, 
1878, at the advanced age of eighty-four. Though a 
whole nation would proudly have honored his remains 
with a public funeral, the service on the 14th was as pri- 
vate and simple as possible, in accordance with his well 
known sentiments. Longfellow, Holmes, and many other 



94 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



noted persons attended the last sad rites. He was laid to 
rest in the cemetery at Roslyn beside the loved wife whom 
he had mourned for twelve long years. His brother John 
read beautiful selections from the poet's best poems, 
while the school children filled his grave with flowers. 

Say, who shall mourn him first, 

Who sang in days for Song so evil-starred, 
Shielding from adverse winds the flame he nursed, — 

Our country's earliest bard? 
For all he sang survives 

In stream, and tree, and bird, and mountain-crest, 
And consecration of uplifted lives 

To duty's stern behest. — Bayard Taylor, 

MEMORY GEMS FROM BRYANT. 
(Find the following gems in Bryant's writings:) 

"Truth crushed to earth shall rise again; 

The eternal years of God are hers ; 
But Error, wounded, writhes in pain, 

And dies among her worshippers." 

''There is a day of sunny rest 

For every dark and troubled night; 

And grief may bide an evening guest. 
But joy shall come with early light." 

''The groves were God's first temples. 

Ere man learned 
To hew the shaft and lay the architrave, 
And spread the roof above them, — ere he framed 
The lofty vault to gather and roll back 
The sound of anthems; in the darkling wood. 



WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT 



95 



Amidst this cool and silence, he knelt down, 
And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks 
And supplication." 

''All things that are on earth shall wholly pass away. 
Except the love of God, which shall live and last for aye." 

grieve for life's bright promise, just shown and then 
withdrawn ; 

But still the sun shines round me; the evening birds 
sing on ; 

And I again am soothed, and beside the ancient gate, 
In this soft evening sunlight, I calmly stand and wait." 

"It is sweet 
To linger here, among the fluttering birds 
And leaping squirrels, wandering brooks, and winds 
That shake the leaves, and scatter, as they pass, 
A fragrance from the cedars, thickly set 
With pale-blue berries. In these peaceful shades — 
Peaceful, unpruned, immeasurably old — 
My thoughts go up the long dim path of years. 
Back to the earliest days of liberty." 

A PARTIAL LIST OF BRYANT's POEMS. 



Thanatopsis. 

To a Waterfowl. 

The Embargo. 

The Eorest Hymn. 

The Death of the Flowers. 

The Snow-Shower. 

The Fringed Gentian.. 



A Summer Ramble. 

Blessed Are They That 
Mourn. 

The New Moon. 

The Flood of Years. 

The Planting of the Apple- 
Tree. 



96 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



Robert of Lincoln. 
Waiting by the Gate. 
The Past. 
The Battlefield. 



Gladness of Nature. 
The Rivulet. 
The Summer Wind. 
A Lifetime. 



The Murdered Traveler. The Life That Is. 



1. Thanatopsis was written during one of his solitary 
rambles when he was ^'communing with nature." Con- 
trary to his usual custom, he did not show it to his 
father for criticism, but hid it away in a desk, thinking 
it of little value. Doctor Bryant was overjoyed when he 
accidentally discovered it six years later, and immediately 
sent it to the North American Review. 

2. Bryant's first volume of poems was issued in 1821, 
the same year of his marriage. It contained only eight 
poems — The Ages, To a Waterfowl, Thanatopsis, The 
Yellow Violet, Inscription for the Entrance to a Wood, 
The Song, The Green River and Fragment from Simon- 
ides. Five of these poems represent the highest reach of 
Bryant's genius. The Ages is the poet's longest poem. 
It was written for a meeting of the Phil Beta Kappa 
society of Harvard. 

3. Bryant's prose works are Orations and Addresses, 
Letters from the East, and Letters of a Traveler. 

4. One of Bryant's greatest works was his translation 
of Homer's Iliad and Odyssey, which he completed in his 
seventy-seventh year. He began it partly as a means of 
combating his grief over the death of his wife. 

5. Bryant's thought dwelt habitually upon the sublim- 
ity of Nature, and its relation to the transitory Hfe of 
man. Nearly three-fourths of his poems are direct sug- 



NOTES ON Bryant's writings. 



WILLIAM CULLEN BEYANT 



97 



gestions from Nature. They are all short, averaging only 
seventy-five lines. Although often urged by his friends 
to write a long poem, something large like an epic or a 
drama, he was never tempted into these broader and 
more alluring fields. His poems number about two hun- 
dred in all. 

THE GLADNESS OF NATUEE. 

Is this a time to be cloudy and sad, ^ 
When our mother nature laughs around. 

When even the deep blue heavens look glad, 

And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground? 

There are notes of joy from the hang-bird and wren, - 
And the gossip of swallows through all the sky; 

The ground-squirrel gayly chirps by his den, 
And the wilding-bee hums merrily by. 

The clouds are at play in the azure space, ' ^ 

And their shadows at play on the bright green vale, 

And here they stretch to the frolic chase, 
And there they roll on the easy gale. 

There's a dance of leaves in that aspen bower; * 
There's a titter of winds in that beechen tree; 

There's a smile on the fruit, and a smile on the flower. 
And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea. 

And look at the broad-faced sun how he smiles 
On the dewy earth that smiles in his ray, 

On the leaping waters and gay young isles, — 
Ay, look, and he'll smile thy gloom away ! 



98 



STODIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



DIRECTIONS FOR STUDY. 

1. Commit the poem to memory. 
11. Explain : — gladness breathes from the blossoming 
ground, hang-bird, wren, gossip of swallows, 
wilding-bee, azure space, green vale, stretch to 
the frolic chase, roll on the easy gale, aspen 
bower, titter of zvinds, beechen tree, smile on the 
fruit, and a smile on the Uozver; laugh from the 
brook, broad-faced sun, smiles in his ray, leaping 
zmters, young isles. 

III. Select some pleasing figures of speech. 

IV. What time of the year does the poem describe? 

Quote passages to prove your statement. 
V. What sum did Bryant receive for this poem? 
VI. How does this poem reveal the poet's love for 
nature ? 

ROBERT OF LINCOLN. 

Merrily swinging on brier and weed, ^ 

Near to the nest of his little dame, 
Over the mountain-side or mead, 

Robert of Lincoln is telling his name ; 
"Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
Spink, spank, spink ; 
Snug and safe is this nest of ours, 
Hidden among the summer flowers, 
Chee, chee, chee." 

Robert of Lincoln is gayly drest, ^ 
Wearing a bright black wedding coat; 

White are his shoulders, and white his crest; 
Hear him call in his merry note : 



WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT 



99 



"Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 

Spink, spank, spink. 
Look, what a nice new coat is mine, 
Sure there was never a bird so fine. 

Chee, chee, chee." 

Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife, 

Pretty and quiet with plain brown wings. 
Passing at home a patient life, 

Broods in the grass, while her husband sings, 
"Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
Spink, spank, spink; 
Brood, kind creature ; you need not fear 
Thieves and robbers, while I am here. 
Chee, chee, chee." 

Modest and shy as a nun is she, 

One weak chirp is her only note, 
Braggart and prince of braggarts is he, 
Pouring boasts from his little throat, 
"Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
Spink, spank, spink; 
Never was I afraid of man, 
Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you can ! 
Chee, chee, chee." 

Six white eggs on a bed of hay, 

Flecked with purple, a pretty sight. 
There as the mother sits all day, 

Robert is singing with all his might: 
"Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
Spink, spank, spink ; 

LOFC 



100 STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITERATURE 



Nice good wife that never goes out, 
Keeping house while I frolic about. 
Chee, chee, chee." 

Soon as the little ones chip the shell, 
Six wide mouths are open for food, 
Robert of Lincoln bestirs him well, 
Gathering seeds for the hungry brood; 
'*Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
Spink, spank, spink, 
This new life is likely to be 
Hard for a gay young fellow like me. 
Chee, chee, chee." 

Robert of Lincoln at length is made 

Sober with work and silent with care; 
Off is his holiday garment laid. 
Half forgotten that merry air; 
''Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
Spink, spank, spink. 
Nobody knows but my mate and I 
Where our nest and our nestlings lie. 
Chee, chee, chee." 

Summer wanes ; the children are grown ; 

Fun and frolic no more he knows, 
Robert of Lincoln's a humdrum crone; 
Off he flies, and we sing as he goes, 
"Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, 
Spink, spank, spink, 
When you can pipe that merry old strain, 
Robert of Lincoln, come back again. 
Chee, chee, chee." 



WILLIAM CULLEN BEYANT 



101 



DIRECTIONS FOR STUDY. 

I. Read the poem carefully. Explain : — little dame, 
mead, prince of braggarts, Pouring boasts from 
his little throat, summer wanes, humdrum crone. 
11. How does Robert of Lincoln tell his name? 

III. Describe Robert of Lincoln and his Quaker wife. 

IV. Where does a BoboHnk build its nest? Of what 

is the nest made? Describe the eggs. 
V. Divide the poem into scenes. 

THANATOPSIS. 

To him who in the love of Nature holds. 

Communion with her visible forms, she speaks 

A various language : for his gayer hours 

She has a voice of gladness, and a smile 

And eloquence of beauty ; and she glides ' 

Into his darker musings with a mild 

And gentle sympathy that steals away 

Their sharpness ere he is aware. When thoughts 

Of the last bitter hour come like a blight 

Over thy spirit, and sad images '^^ 

Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, 

And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, 

Make thee to shudder and grow sick at heart. 

Go forth, unto the open sky, and list 

To Nature's teachings, while from all around — 

Earth and her waters, and the depths of air — 

Comes a still voice : Yet a few days, and thee 

The all-beholding sun shall see no more 

In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground, 



102 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITEEATURE 



Where thy pale form was laid with many tears, 

Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist 

Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim 

Thy growth to be resolved to earth again, 

And, lost each human trace, surrendering up 

Thine individual being, shalt thou go 

To mix forever with the elements ; 

To be a brother to the 'insensible rock. 

And to the sluggish clod which the rude swain 

Turns with his share and treads upon. The oak 

Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mold. 

Yet not to thy eternal resting place 
Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish 
Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down 
With patriarchs of the infant world, — with kings, 
The powerful of the earth, — the wise, the good, 
Fair forms and hoary seers of ages past. 
All in one mighty sepulcher. The hills, 
Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun ; the vales. 
Stretching in pensive quietness between ; 
The venerable woods ; rivers that move 
In majesty, and the complaining brooks, 
That make the meadows green ; and, poured round all, 
Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste, — 
Are but the solemn decorations all 
Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun, 
The plants, all the infinite host of heaven. 
Are shining on the sad abodes of death 
Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread 
The globe are but a handful to the tribes 
That slumber in its bosom. Take the wings 



WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT 



Of the morning, pierce the Barcan wilderness, 
Or lose thyself in the continuous woods 
Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound 
Save his own dashings, — yet the dead are there. 
And millions in those solitudes, since first 
The flight of years began, have laid them down 
In their last sleep : the dead reign there alone. 
So shalt thou rest ; and what if thou withdraw 
In silence from the living, and no friend 
Take note of thy departure? All that breathe 
Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh 
When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care 
Plod on, and each one, as before, will chase 
His favorite phantom ; yet all these shall leave 
Their mirth and their employments, and shall come 
And make their bed with thee. As the long train 
Of ages glides away, the sons of men — 
The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes 
In the full strength of years, matron and maid. 
The speechless babe, and the gray-headed man — 
Shall one by one be gathered to thy side 
By those who in their turn shall follow them. 

So live that when thy summons come to join. 
The innumerable caravan which moves 
To that mysterious realm where each shall take 
His chamber in the silent halls of death, 
Thou go not like the quarry slave at night, 
Scourged to his dungeon, but sustained and soothed 
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave 
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. 



104 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



DIRECTIONS FOR STUDY. 

I. Read the poem until you can fully get the author's 
thought. As a class exercise, read the poem by 
sentences, explaining each. 
II. Note the lofty distinction of his verse. Show the 
magnificent harmony of thought, words and 
music. 

III. Study the description in the sentence beginning, 

''The hills rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun," 
in which the decorations for the tomb of man are 
shown. Select other beautiful descriptions. 

IV. Select similes and metaphors. 

V. Commit to memory the last nine lines of the poem. 
VI. In what verse form is this selection written? 



PLANTING THE APPLE TREE. 

Cleave the tough greensward with the spade; 
Wide let its hollow bed be made ; 
There gently lay the roots, and there 
Sift the dark mold with kindly care, 

And press it o'er them tenderly — 
As, round the sleeping infant's feet. 
We softly fold the cradle-sheet; 

So plant we the apple tree. 

What, plant we in this apple tree ? 
Buds, which the breath of summer days 
Shall lengthen into leafy sprays ; 
Boughs where the thrush with crimson breast. 
Shall haunt and sing and hide her nest; 

We plant upon the sunny lea, 



WILLIAM CULLEN BEYANT 



105 



A shadow for the noontide hour, 
A shelter from the summer shower, 
When we plant the apple tree. 

What plant we in this apple tree? ' 
Sweets for a hundred flowery springs 
To load the May wind's restless wings, 
When from the orchard row he pours 
Its fragrance through our open doors; 

A world of blossoms for the bee. 
Flowers for the sick girl's silent room, 
For the glad infant sprigs of bloom. 

We plant with the apple tree. 

What plant we in this apple tree? * 
Fruits that shall swell in sunny June, 
And redden in the August noon. 
And drop, when gentle airs come by. 
That fan the blue September sky, 

While children come with cries of glee, 
And seek them where the fragrant grass 
Betrays their beds to those who pass. 

At the foot of the apple tree. 

DIRECTIONS FOR STUDY. 

I. Read the poem carefully. 
II. What do we plant when we plant a tree ? Discuss 
tree planting. 

III. How does the apple tree repay the care of man? 

Sum up the uses of the apple tree. 

IV. Trace the growth of an apple from the beginning. 
V. Describe an apple tree in early spring. 



106 STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITERATUEE 



SUGGESTED POEMS FOR FURTHER READING. 



The Death of the Flowers. 

The Battlefield. 

The Son of Marion's Men. 

To a Waterfowl. 

The Snow-Shower. 

The Yellow Violet. 



A Forest Hvmn. 



The Fringed Gentian. 
A Summer Ramble. 



March. 



The Flood of Years. 
Seventy-six. 



CRITICISMS. 



1. "His language is simple Saxon speech, used with 
its best grace, beauty, and strength. His verse, always 
technically correct, flows as smoothly and musically as 
the pebbly brooks he loved, and always 

Pure as the dew that filters through the rose. 

Two verse forms were his favorites, the iambic 
quatrain in eight-syllabled lines, as in A Day Dream, 
occasionally varied as in Autumn Woods, and blank 
verse, in which he achieved his masterpieces ; only in 
the latter was he truly original." — Ahernethy's Ameri- 
can Literature. 

2. ''He was a man of scholarly accompHshments, 
familiar with other languages and literature. But there 
is no tone or taste of anything not peculiarly American 
in his poetry. It is as characteristic as the wine of the 
Catawba grape. . . . The genius of Bryant, not 
profuse and impartial, neither intense with dramatic pas- 
sion nor throbbing with lyrical fervor, but calm, medita- 
tive, pure, has its true symbol among his native hills, a 
mountain spring untainted by mineral or slime of earth 



WILLIAM CULLEN BEYANT 



107 



or reptile venom, cool, limpid and serene. His verse is 
the virile expression of the healthy communion of a 
strong, sound man' with the familiar aspects of nature. 
It is not the poetry of an eager enthusiasm; it is 
not fascinating and overpowering to the sensibiHty of 
youth. It is the essentially meditative character which 
makes the atmosphere of his poetic world more striking 
than its forms; and thus his contribution of memorable 
lines to our literature is not great, although there are 
some lines of unsurpassed majesty, and again touches 
of fancy and imagination as airy and delicate as the 
dance of fairies upon a moonlit lawn." — G. W. Curtis. 

3. "Eternity alone can measure the noble influence 
on our national life and character of the pure, lofty 
poetry and the rich, rugged manhood of William Cullen 
Bryant. His dignified bodily presence is no more among 
men, but Thanatopsis, To a Waterfowl, The Battle-Field, 
A Forest Hymn, The Flood of Years, The Death of the 
Flowers, A Lifetime, have become a part of our national 
wealth — wealth not named in the census, but truer and 
more abiding riches than factory or field or forest." — • 
Irish's American Authors. 

REFERENCES. 

Life of Bryant, by his son-in-law, Parke Godwin. 
Poetical and Prose Works of William Cullen Bryant, 
Godwin. 

William Cullen Bryant, Bigelow. 
Life of Bryant, Hill. 

Home Life of Great Authors, Mrs. Griswold. 
Poet's Homes, Stoddard. 



108 STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITERATURE 



poets' tributes. 

Bryant's Seventieth Birthday, Holmes. 
Epicedium, and Chant for the Bryant Festival, B. F. 
Taylor. 

At Roslyn, and The Dead Master, Stoddard. 

Bryant on his Birthday, Whittier. 

On Board the 76, Lozvell. 

The Death of Bryant, Stedman. 

QUESTIONS ON BRYANT. 

1. Tel] the story of Bryant's life. 

2. Name five of Bryant's poems. Quote three mem- 
ory gems. 

3. What poem is considered his masterpiece? Quote 
a passage from it. 

4. Which one of Bryant's poems do you like best? 
Why? 

5. Why are Bryant's poems not as popular as Long- 
fellow's or Whittier's? 

6. Tell something of Bryant's habits and mode of 
living. 

7. Where did Bryant get his suggestions for poems? 
Tell something of the number and average length of 
his writings. 

8. Speak of Bryant as an orator. As a traveler. 

9. In what form of verse are his masterpieces writ- 
ten? What other style of verse was a favorite with 
him ? 

ID. Name Bryant's prose works. 



EALPH WALDO EMEESON 



109 



RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 

1803-1882. 

''The Sage of Concord." 
''The Yankee Plato." 

"The Intellectual Emancipator of America" 

We were socially and intellectually bound to English thought, 
until Emerson cut the cable and gave us a chance at the dangers 
and glories of blue waters. He was our first optimistic writer. 
Before his day, Puritan theology had seen in man only a vile 
nature and considered his instincts for beauty and pleasure, 
proofs of his total depravity. — James Russell Lowell. 

It was good to meet him in the wood-paths or sometimes in 
our avenue, with that pure intellectual gleam diffused about his 
presence like the garment of a shining one; and he so quiet, so 
simple, so without pretension, encountering each man alive as if 
expecting to receive more than he could impart. It was impos- 
sible to dwell in his vicinity without inhaling more or less the 
mountain atmosphere of his lofty thought. — Hawthorne. 

IT IS a matter of no small difficulty to classify Emer- 
son. He was a philosopher, he was an essayist, he 
was a poet — all three so eminently that scarcely two of 
his friends would agree as to which class he belonged. 
Oliver Wendell Holmes inquires : — 

Where in the realm of thought whose air is song 
Does he, the Buddha of the West, belong? 
He seems a winged Franklin, sweetly wise, 
Born to unlock the secret of the skies. 

Whatever else he was Emerson was preeminently a 
poet. It was with this golden key that he unlocked the 
chambers of original thought; philosophy, essay and 
song were all pregnant with the spirit of poetry. Among 



110 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



his best poems are The Problem, The Dirge, Concord 
Hymn, The Apology, Good-Bye, Woodnotes, May-Day, 
My Garden, and The Rhodora, in which the following 
oft-quoted lines occur : — 

Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why 

This charm is wasted on the earth and sky, 

Tell them, dear, that if eyes were made for seeing, 

Then Beauty is its own excuse for being. 

A well-known critic, in speaking of Emerson's essays, 
• says : 'They are mosaics of precious thoughts, arranged 
without definite design, and held together by the 
cohesiveness of spirit rather than of logic." The author 
himself confessed to a "lapidary style" and said that he 
built his house of boulders. His friend Carlyle com- 
plained that his paragraph was "a beautiful square bag 
of duckshot held together by canvas" instead of being a 
''beaten ingot." His thought seemed to naturally run 
into crisp, laconic sayings, associated, rather than cor- 
related, with a central theme. His pages were thickly 
streWn with aphoristic sentences like the following: 

Every man's task is his life-preserver. 

Hitch your wagon to a star. 

Beauty is the mark God sets upon virtue. 

Give me health and a day, and I will make ridiculous 
the pomp of emperors. 

God builds his temple in the heart on the ruins of 
churches and religions. 

The tape worm of travel is born in every American. 

Let us realize that this country, the last found, is the 
great charity of God to the human race. 

Prudence is the science of appearances. 



RALPH WALDO EMEESON 



111 



Men are like Geneva watches with crystal faces which 
expose the whole movement. 

Among his best essays are those on Compensation, 
Self-Reliance, Domestic Life, Friendship, Heroism, Art, 
Character, Education, Uses of Great Men, Immortality, 
and Representative Men. The following passages are 
selected from his American Scholar: — 

Life is our dictionary. 

Character is higher than intellect. 

The office of the scholar is to cheer, to raise, to guide 
men by showing them facts amidst appearances. 

Let him not quit his belief that a pop-gun is a pop-gun, 
though the ancient and honorable of the earth affirm it 
to be the crack of doom. 

Fear always springs from ignorance. 

The main enterprise of the world for splendor, for' 
extent, is the upbuilding of a man. 

The flowering of civiHzation is in the finished man, 
the man of sense, of grace, of accomplishment, of social 
power,-^the gentleman. 

America is another word for Opportunity. 

Character teaches above our wills. 

Ralph Waldo Emerson was born in Boston, May 25, 
1803, not far from the birthplace of Franklin, with whom 
he has frequently been compared. He was the descend- 
ant of an unbroken ancestry, both paternal and maternal, 
of seven or more generations of ministers and teachers. 
His father, Rev. William Emerson, a Unitarian minister, 
died when Ralph Waldo was seven years old. His 
mother was a very superior woman, and all alone cared 
for her family of four boys and one girl, all under the 



112 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



age of ten years. Her chief desire was to educate her 
children, and to this end she suffered privations and 
endured hardships which they shared bravely. 

Emerson entered a grammar school when he was eight 
years of age. He made such rapid progress that he was 
soon promoted to a Latin school. He entered Harvard 
at the age of fourteen, graduating four years later, hav- 
ing the distinction of being chosen class poet. It is said 
that he was dull in mathematics and not above the aver- 
age of his class in general standing; but he was widely 
read in literature, which put him far in advance of any 
young man of his age. He taught school for five years 
after his graduation, but gave it up to enter the ministry 
in 1825. He was ordained pastor of Second Church, 
Boston, in 1829. In this same year he married Miss 
•Ellen Louisa Tucker. Her death occurred two years 
later, and shortly after Emerson resigned his pastorate 
on account of his differing religious views, and retired 
to Concord, where he lived until his death, fifty years 
later. It was in this city that Emerson gathered around 
him those leading spirits who were dissatisfied with the 
selfishness and shallowness of existing society, and who 
had been led by him to dream of an ideal condition in 
which all should live as one family; out of this experi- 
ment grew the famous "Brook Farm Community." 
About seventy members joined in the enterprise, which 
proved a failure. Among these members were Margaret 
Fuller, Hawthorne, Thoreau, Anson Bronson Alcott, and 
Charles A. Dana. 

The 'Tncorrigible Spouting Yankee," as he called him- 
self, entered the lecture field in 1834. While lecturing in 
Plymouth he formed the acquaintance of Miss Lydia 



EALPH WALDO EMERSON 



113 



Jackson, who became his wife the next year. They 
made their home at what is now known as the ''Emerson 
House," and which is occupied by their son. Doctor 
Edward Emerson. Mr. and Mrs. Emerson were the 
parents of four children, one of whom died in early 
childhood. In 1872 the Emerson home was destroyed 
by fire, shortly after Emerson made his third and last 
voyage to Europe. On his return his neighbors met him 
at the depot and escorted him to his home, which they 
had rebuilt during his absence. Emerson was greatly 
loved by all who knew him. His manhood, no less than 
his genius was worthy of admiration and of reverence. 
His manner was gentle, his nature transparent, and his 
life singularly pure and happy. He numbered among 
his friends not only the great literary personages of 
America, but the most prominent literary lights of 
Europe as well. 

At Longfellow's funeral Emerson contracted a cold 
which hastened his death. He died of pneumonia, one 
month later, April 27, 1882. "On Sunday, April 30, 
all that was mortal of Ralph Waldo Emerson was borne 
by loving hands up the wooded hillside in Sleepy Hol- 
low Cemetery, and tenderly laid to rest on the brow of 
the hill in the midst of the tall forest pines, that stand, 
like heavenly sentinels, to guard this hallowed ground." 
On the gigantic rose-quartz boulder which marks his 
grave is a tablet engraved with his name, place and time 
of birth and death and these Hues from his poem, The 
Problem: 

The passive Master lent his hand 

To the vast soul that 'er him planned. 



114 STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITEEATURE 



MEMORY GEMS FROM EMERSON. 

(Find the following quotations in Emerson's writing. 
Commit to memory one gem each day.) 

"The greatest homage we can pay to truth is to use 
it." 

''Though we travel the world over to find the beauti- 
ful, we must carry it with us or we find it not." 

''Life is too short to waste in critic peep or cynic bark, 

Quarrel or reprimand ; 'twill soon be dark ; 

Up ! mind thine own aim, and God speed the mark." 

''My angel — his name is Freedom — 

Choose him to be your king; 
He shall cut pathways east and west, 

And 'tend you with his wing." 

"I laugh at the love and the pride of man, 
At the sophist schools and the learned clan; 
For what are they all, in their high conceit, 
When man in the bush with God may meet?" 

"Our greatest glory consists not in never falling, but 
in rising every time we fall." 

MOUNTAIN AND SQUIRREL. 

The mountain and the squirrel 

Had a quarrel; 
And the former called the latter "Little Prig." 

Bun replied: 
"You are doubtless very big; 
But all sorts of things and weather 
Must be taken in together, 



RALPH WALDO EMERSON 



To make up a year 
And a sphere. 

And I think it no disgrace 

To occupy my place. 

If I'm not so large as you, 

You are not so small as I, 

And not half so spry. 

I'll not deny you make 

A very pretty squirrel track; 

Talents differ ; all is well and wisely put ; 

If I cannot carry forests on my back, 

Neither can you crack a nut." 

I. Make an amplification of the poem. 

II. What is the moral of the story? 

A LAUGHING CHORUS. 

Oh, such a commotion under the ground 
When March called, *'Ho, there! ho!" 

Such spreading of rootlets far and wide, 
Such whispering to and fro ; 

And "Are you ready?" the Snowdrop asked, 
"'Tis time to start, you know." 

"Almost, my dear," the Scilla replied; 
"I'll follow as soon as you go." 

Then "Ha ! ha ! ha !" a chorus came 
Of laughter soft and low, 

From the millions of flowers under the ground- 
Yes — millions — beginning to grow. 

"I'll promise my blossoms," the Crocus said, 

'When I hear the bluebirds sing." 
And straight thereafter. Narcissus cried. 



116 



STTJDIES IN AMERICAN LITEEATURE 



''My silver and gold I'll bring." 

"And ere they are dulled," another spoke, 
'The Hyacinth bells shall ring." 

And the Violet only murmured, "I'm here," 
And sweet grew the air of spring. 

Then "Ha ! ha ! ha !" a chorus came 
Of laughter soft and low, 

From the millions of flowers under the ground- 
Yes — millions — beginning to grow. 

Oh, the pretty, brave things ! through the coldest days, 

Imprisoned in walls of brown, 
They never lost heart though the blast shrieked loud, 

And the sleet and the hail came down. 
But patiently each wrought her beautiful dress, 

Or fashioned her beautiful crown ; 
And now they are coming to brighten the world, 

Still shadowed by Winter's frown ; 
And well may they cheerily laugh, "Ha! ha!" 

In a chorus soft and low. 
The millions of flowers hid under the ground, — 

Yes — millions — beginning to grow. 

— Evolution of Expression. 

DIRECTIONS FOR STUDY. 

I. Describe the flowers mentioned in the poem. Ex- 
plain : — Imprisoned in imlls of brown, blast shrieked 
loud, shadowed by Winter s frown, But patiently each 
wrought her beautiful dress, Or fashioned her beautiful 
crown. 

II. What epoch in plant life does the Laughing 
Chorus introduce? 



RALPH WALDO EMEESON 



117 



SUGGESTED WRITINGS FOR FURTHER STUDY. 



Essays : — 

Representative Men. 
Friendship. 

The American Scholar. 
Domestic Life. 
Educatiqn. 



Poems : — 

Each and All. 

The Concord Hymn. 

The Problem. 

The Sphinx. 

The Snow Storm. 



(Compare with Whittier's description.) 



CRITICISMS. 

1. ^'The philosophy of Emerson is Idealism, applied 
to practical life ; its highest truths come through intui- 
tions, not through the 'half sight of science.' In its ex- 
pression he is sometimes carried in lofty rhapsodies to 
the verge of mysticism, as in Nature, The Over-Soul, 
and the poem Brahma; but generally his thought is well 
anchored in common sense, and he everywhere gives in- 
spiring and illuminating evidence of the possibilities of 
life on a higher level. He is the mystic and the man 
of sense united. His constant theme is the omnipresence 
of God. Soul permeates all things. His mental atti- 
tude is optimistic, always that of trust and faith. His 
influence is that of an inspirer, giving a spiritual lift to 
all who reach out to him." — Selected. 

2. ''His eye for a fine, telling phrase that will carry 
true, is like that of a backwoodsman for a rifle; and he 
will dredge you up a choice word from the mud of Cot- 
ton Mather himself. A diction at once so rich and so 
homely as his, I know not where to match in these days 
of writing by the page; it is like homespun cloth-of- 
gold." — Lowell. 



118 STTJDIES IN AMEBIC AN LITEEATURE 



3. ''Emerson's style is epigrammatic, incisive, au- 
thoritative, sometimes quaint, never obscure, except 
when he is handHng nebulous subjects. His paragraphs 
are full of brittle sentences that break apart and are in- 
dependent units, like the fragments of a coral colony. 
His fertility of illustrative imagery is very great. His 
images are noble, or, if borrowed from humble subjects, 
ennobled by his handling. He throws his royal robe 
over a milking stool and it becomes a throne." — Holmes. 

4. "In certain respects he has gone beyond any other. 
He has gone beyond the symbol to the thing signified. 
He has emptied poetic forms of their meaning, and 
made poetry of that. He would fain cut the world up 
into stars to shine in the intellectual firmament. He is 
more and he is less than the best. He stands among 
other poets like a pine tree amid a forest of oak and 
maple. He seems to belong to another race, and to 
other climes and conditions. He is great in one direc- 
tion — up ; no dancing leaves, but rapt needles ; never 
abandonment, never a tossing and careering, never an 
avalanche of emotion ; the same in sun and snow, scat- 
tering his cones, and with night and obscurity amid his 
branches." — John Burroughs. 

REFERENCES. 

Memoir of Ralph Waldo Emerson, Cabot. 
Ralph Waldo Emerson, Garnett. 
Correspondence of Carlyle and Emerson, Norton 
Talks with Emerson, Woodbury. 
Authors and Friends, Mrs. Fields. 



OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES 



119 



poets' tributes. 
R. W. E., Lucy Larcom. 
To R. W. E., Susan Coolidge. 
The Poet's Countersign, Sanborn. 
Ralph Waldo Emerson, Cranch. 
To Emerson on his Seventieth Birthday, Hayne. 
Ion: a Monody, A. Bronson Alcott. 

QUESTIONS ON EMERSON. 

I. Tell the story of Emerson's Life? 

II. What do critics say of his writings? 

III. Name some of Emerson's best essays and quote 
fine passages. 

IV. What was the "Brook Farm Community?" 
Name some of its members. 

V. Name four of Emerson's poems. Quote three 
passages. 

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 
1809- 1 894. 

''The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table.'' 
"The Poet Laureate of America." 

He read men and women as great scholars read books. He 
handled his rapidly acquired knowledge so like an adept in book- 
lore that one might have thought he was born in an alcove and 
cradled on a book-shelf. — Dr. Bigelow. 

There's Holmes, who is matchless among us for wit; 
A Leyden-jar always full charged from which flit 

The electrical twinges of hit after hit. 

* * * * * * * 

His are just the fine hands, too, to weave you a lyric 
Full of fancy, fun, feeling, or spiced with satiric 



120 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



In a measure so kindly, you doubt if the toes 
That are trodden on are your own or your foes\ 

— Lowell. 

OLIVER Wendell Holmes was a many-sided man, 
the most unique character, perhaps, of that immor- 
tal, group, — Bryant, Emerson, Lowell, Whittier, and 
Longfellow, — and died last, the ''Last Leaf on the Tree." 
He was a physician of high standing in his profession, 
having made one or two medical discoveries, which, 
though ignored at the time, are now universally accepted. 
He was a professor of anatomy for thirty-five years in 
the Cambridge Medical School, devoting himself to his 
profession, giving five lectures a week to the students. 
Besides this he was a scientist, wit, author, and poet. 

Holmes was born August 29, 1809, in a quaint old- 
fashioned house in classic Cambridge, under the very 
shadow of the buildings of Harvard College and only 
a short distance from the historic elm under which 
Washington took command of the American army. This 
old gambrel-roofed house was very dear to Holmes, and 
he makes frequent allusion to it in his writings : 

Home of our childhood! how affection clings 
And hovers round thee with her seraph wings! 
Dearer thy hills, 'tho clad in autumn brown, 
Than fairest summits which the cedars crown! 
Sweeter the fragrance of thy summer breeze 
Than all Arabia breathes along the seas! 

For over forty years the poet's father, the Rev. Abiel 
Holmes, was pastor of the Congregational church of 
Cambridge. — 

That ancient church whose lofty tower, 
Beneath the loftier spire. 



OLIVEE WENDELL HOLMES 



121 



Is shadowed when the sunset hour 
Clothes the tall shaft in fire. 

He is reported to have been a good man of exem- 
plary character and an author of some abiUty, but a 
"dry as dust preacher who fed his people sawdust out 
of a spoon." His second wife, the mother of Oliver 
Wendell Holmes, was the daughter of Hon. Oliver Wen- 
dell, an eminent lawyer and a descendant of the best blue 
blood of New England. Mrs. Wendell was Mary 
Quincy Jackson, a daughter of Dorothy Quincy, the 
"Dorothy Q." of the immortal poem: — 

Grandmother's mother: her age I guess 

Thirteen summers, or something less; 

Girlish bust, but womanly air, 

Smooth, square forehead with uprolled hair; 

Lips that lover has never kissed; 

Taper fingers and slender wrist ; 

Hanging sleeves of stiff brocade; 

So they painted the little maid. 

* * * * 

What if a hundred years ago 
Those close shut lips had answered No, 
When forth the tremulous question came 
That cost the maiden her Norman name, 
And under the folds that looked so still 
The bodice swelled with the bosom's thrill? 
Should I be I, or would it be 
One-tenth another to nine-tenths me? 

Oliver Wendell Holmes had the blood of six of the 
best colonial famiHes in his veins. The Wendells, how- 
ever, were from Holland. — 
Our ancestors were dwellers beside the Zuyder Zee; 
Both Grotius and Erasmus were countrymen of we. 
And Wandel, was our namesake, though he spelt it with a V. 



122 STTJDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



Young Holmes entered Harvard College at the age of 
sixteen, and graduated in the famous class of '29, number- 
ing among his classmates Smith, the author of "Amer- 
ica," Pierce, the astronomer, James Freeman Clarke, Wm. 
Channing and others whose names are known to fame. 
Many years after, at a class reunion, he read his famous 
poem, The Boys, written in memory of the old college 
days. — 

Has there any old fellow got mixed with The Boys? 
If there has take him out, without making a noise ; 
Hang the Almanac's cheat, and the catalogue's spite! 
Old Time is a liar! We're twenty tonight! 

Then here's to our boyhood, its gold and its gray! 
The stars of its winter, the dews of its May, 
And when we have done with our life-lasting toys, 
Dear Father, take care of thy children, ' ' The Boys. ' ' 

After leaving college. Holmes studied law for one 
year, then changed his course and studied medicine. He 
went abroad for further medical study, and in 1838, he 
was appointed Professor of Anatomy in Dartmouth Col- 
lege, a position which he held for two years. He then 
returned to Boston to devote his life to the practice of 
medicine. In 1847, he accepted a call to a professorship 
in the Medical School at Harvard, a position which he 
held for thirty-five years. "Few instructors ever suc- 
ceeded so well in making the dry subject of anatomy in- 
teresting; he brought to it plentiful knowledge, patience, 
and earnestness, and an easy flowing abundance of apt 
and witty illustration, that added effectiveness as well as 
interest to his instruction." 

About the time of his removal to Boston, Doctor 



OLIVEE WENDELL HOLMES 



123 



Holmes ma' ~ied Amelia Lee Jackson, daughter of Judge 
Jackson of the Massachusetts Supreme Court. They 
were the parents of three children, Oliver Wendell, 
Amelia Jackson, and Edward. The eldest son, Oliver 
Wendell, has followed in the footsteps of both father and 
grandfather, having been Professor of Law at Harvard 
and later Chief Justice of the Massachusetts Supreme 
Court. He is now Associate Justice of the U. S. Su- 
preme Court, having been appointed in 1902. 

In spite of his busy life in college, in the lecture field, 
and as beloved physician, Doctor Holmes yet found 
time for voluminous writing. Among his principal prose 
works are The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table, The 
Professor at the Breakfast Table, The Poet at the Break- 
fast Table, Over the Teacups, One Hundred Days in 
Europe, Elsie Venner, The Guardian Angel, A Mortal 
Antipathy, and the Life of Ralph Waldo Emerson. 
Popular favorites among his short poems are Dorothy 
Q., Bill and Joe, The Height of the Ridiculous, The 
Chambered Nautilus, The Last Leaf, The Living Tem- 
ple, and The Promise. Doctor Holmes made many not- 
able contributions to medical literature. He also wrote 
some beautiful hymns. That one which begins : — 

Lord of all being! throned afar. 
Thy glory flames from sun and star; 
Center and soul of every sphere, 
Yet to each loving heart how near! 

is one of the grandest in the language. On one occa- 
sion he said : "There are very few modern hymns which 
have the old ring of sainthness in them. Sometimes 
when I am disinclined to listen to the preacher, I turn 



124 STTJDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



to the hymn book, and when one strikes my eye, I cover 
the name at the bottom and guess. It is almost invari- 
ably Watts or Wesley." 

Doctor Holmes included among his friends all the 
foremost literary people of his day. On the occasion of 
his seventieth birthday, the publishers of the Atlantic 
Monthly gave a breakfast in his honor. Doctor Holmes 
and his daughter, Mrs. Sargent, received the guests, who 
numbered about one hundred. They were assisted by 
Ralph Waldo Emerson, John Greenleaf Whittier, Har- 
riet Beecher Stowe, and Julia Ward Howe. 

Holmes was a most delightful companion. One of 
his classmates once said of him, "He makes you feel like 
you were the best fellow in the world and he was the 
next best." The charms of his personality were irresisti- 
ble. Among the poor, among the literary, and among 
the society notables he was ever the most welcome of 
guests. His frank, hearty manliness, his readiness to 
amuse and be amused, his fund of anecdotes, his tact 
and union of sympathy and originality made him the 
best of companions. He was serious and studied the 
serious side of life. He never tried to be funny. His 
wit bubbled up spontaneously, and it was more brilliant 
and appreciated because it came so abruptly and unex- 
pected. He was first and foremost a conversationalist. 
He talked even on paper. Some one has said that, after 
reading Holmes, we feel that life is easier and simpler 
and a finer affair altogether and more worth living for 
than we had been wont to regard it. Holmes never 
grew **old" ; the winters of four score years and five 
could not destroy the warm flow of his fellowship and 



OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES 



125 



good cheer. "Eighty years young" he was wont to say 
with one of his genial smiles. 

Doctor Holmes was intensely religious. He once 
wrote to his friend, Rev. Phillips Brooks: "My natural 
Sunday home is King's Chapel. In that church I have 
worshiped for half a century. There, on the fifteenth 
of June, 1840, I was married; there my children were 
all christened; from that church my dear companion, 
of so many blessed years, was buried. In her seat I 
must sit and through its door I hope to be carried to 
my last resting-place." 

"The Last Leaf" passed from this life October 7, 1894, 
at the ripe age of eighty-five years, and the world will 
continue to smile for many generations to come because 
Oliver Wendell Holmes lived. "The wind mourned, the 
rain fell continuously, as loving hands bore into King's 
Chapel, upon Wednesday, October 10, all that was mor- 
tal of the famous poet. The casket, upon which rested 
wreaths of pansies and laurels, was borne up the aisle to 
the wailing strains of Handel's Dead March in Saul." 
The funeral sermon was delivered by Doctor Edward 
Everett Hale, after which the body was laid to rest be- 
side his wife in Mt. Auburn. 

MEMOEY GEMS FROM HOLMES. 

"There is no friend like the old friend, who has shared 

our morning days. 
No greeting like his welcome, no homage like his praise ; 
Fame is the scentless sunflower, with gaudy crown of 

gold; 

But friendship is the breathing rose, with sweets in 
every fold. — No Time Like the Old Time. 



126 STXTDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



''Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, 

As the swift seasons roll ! 

Leave thy low-vaulted past! 

Let each new temple, nobler than the last, 

Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, 

Till thou at length art free. 

Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!" 

—The Chambered Nautilus. 

"Speak clearly, if you speak at all ; 
Carve every word before you let it fall ; 
, And when you stick on conversation's burrs. 
Don't strew your pathway with those dreadful urs." 

— A Rhymed Lesson. 

"Little of all we value here 
Wakes on the morn of its hundredth year 
■ Without both feeling and looking queer. 

In fact, there's nothing that keeps its youth 
So far as I know, but a tree and truth." 

— The Deacon's Masterpiece. 

"Our brains are seventy year clocks. The Angel cf 
Life winds them up once for all, then closes the case, 
and gives the key into the hand of the Angel of the 
Resurrection." — The Autocrat of the Breakfast Tabic. 

'T find the great thing in this world is not so much 
where we stand, as in what direction we are moving. 
To reach the port of heaven, we must sail sometimes 
with the wind and sometimes against it, — ^but we must 
sail, and not drift, nor lie at anchor." — The Autocrat. 

"Truth is tough. It will not break, like a bubble at a 
touch ; nay, you may kick it about all day like a football, 



OLIVEE WENDELL HOLMES 



127 



and it will be round and full at evening." — The Pro- 
fessor at the Breakfast Table. 

''It is such a sad thing to be born a sneaking fellow, 
so much worse than to inherit a humpback or a couple 
of club feet, that I sometimes feel as if we ought to 
love the crippled souls, if I may use this expression, 
with a certain tenderness which we need not waste on 
noble natures. One who is born with such congenital 
incapacity that nothing can make a gentleman of him, is 
entitled, not to our wrath, but to our profoundest sym- 
pathy." — The Autocrat. 

"Many ideas grow better when transplanted into an- 
other mind than in the one where they sprang up. That 
which was a weed in one intelligence becomes a flower 
in the other. A flower, on the other hand, may dwindle 
down to a mere weed by the same change. Healthy 
growth may become poisonous by falling upon the wrong 
mental soil, and what seemed a nightshade in one mind 
unfold as a morning-glory in the other." — The Poet. 

"One is sometimes tempted to wish that the superla- 
tive could be abolished, or its use allowed only to old 
experts. What are men to do when they get to heaven, 
after having exhausted their vocabulary of admiration 
on earth?" — Our Hundred Days in Europe. 

(Find the following quotations in Holmes' writings:) 

"Knowledge and timber shouldn't be much used till 
they are seasoned." 

"A crank is a man who does his own thinking 

There never was an idea started that woke men up out 
of their stupid indifference but its originator was 
spoken of as a crank." 



128 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITEEATURE 



*'And silence, like a poultice, comes 
To heal the blows of sound." 
"Put not your trust in money, but put your money in 
trust." 

"Good feeling helps society to make liars of most of 
us — not absolute liars, but such careless handlers of 
truth that its sharp corners get terribly rounded." 

A PARTIAL LIST OF HOLMES's WRITINGS FOR REFERENCE. 



The Breakfast Table Se- 
ries. 

Over the Tea Cups. 

One Hundred Days in 

Europe. 
Elsie Venner. 
The Guardian Angel. 



Life of Emerson. 

The Chambered Nautilus. 

The Iron Gate. 

The Living Temple. 

The Promise. 

The Deacon's Masterpiece. 

The Spectre Pig. 



NOTES ON HOLMES's WRITING. 

I. When Lowell accepted the editorship of the At- 
lantic Monthly it was on condition that Dr. Holmes be- 
come a regular contributor. In the first number, there- 
fore, appeared the opening installment of The Autocrat 
of the Breakfast Table, with its droll beginning, "I was 
just going to say, when I was interrupted." This inter- 
ruption had occurred just a quarter of a century before, 
for in 1832 he contributed two papers, under the same 
title, to the New England Magazine! It was these 
papers which had suggested to Holmes, when he was 
planning his work for the magazine, "That it would be a 
curious experiment to shake the same bough again and 
see if the ripe fruit were better or worse than the early 



OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES 



129 



windfalls." The Autocrat was followed by The Pro- 
fessor at the Breakfast Table. This was succeeded, 
twelve years later, by the Poet at the Breakfast Table. 

2. The character sketches, bright dialogue, and im- 
aginative passages in the Breakfast Table series sug- 
gested the possibilities of a complete novel. Elsie Ven- 
ner appeared in 1861, and The Guardian Angel in 1867. 
Twenty years later, A Moral Antipathy was produced, 
but it was much inferior to its predecessors. "The three 
novels all deal with Dr. Holmes's favorite theme, — the 
doctrine of heredity and its bearing upon free will and 
moral accountability. The prominence of the psycho- 
physiological element led some one to call them 'medi- 
cated novels.' The chief literary interest is in the New 
England environment of the stories. Holmes has not 
the art of the story-teller ; he is too discursive, being 
tempted by his scurrying thoughts away from the tale 
into every attractive side-path of comment and specula- 
tion. He cannot suppress himself, and hence is usually 
the most interesting character in the book." His best 
novel-writing has been done in his books which are not 
novels. ''Where do we find anything of finer artistic 
touch or greater delicacy than the sketch of Tris' in The 
Professor or that of the 'Schoolmistress' in The Auto- 
cratr 

3. His Life of Emerson, written in his seventy-third 
year, is a tender tribute of a master hand, showing the 
high order of his ability as a prose writer as well. 

4. When in his eightieth year, Holmes again shook 
the old bough, and introduced through the medium of 
the Atlantic Monthly a series of cheerful, chatty papers. 



130 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



called ''Over the Teacups." Three years before, in com- 
pany with his daughter, he had visited Europe. The 
story of his flattering reception and experiences is told 
in his One Hundred Days in Europe. 

5. Among Holmes's patriotic poems may be men- 
tioned, J^oice of the Loyal North, God Save the Flag, 
Never or Nozv, Lexington, Union and Liberty, Old Iron- 
sides (written at the age of nineteen), and Ballad of the 
Boston Tea Party. Among his frolicsome poems are My 
Aunt, the Comet, The September Gale, The Height of 
the Ridiculous, Contentment, and many others. Those 
packed with genuine humor are The Deacon s Master- 
piece, The Spectre Pig, The Ballad of an Oysterman, 
and Parson Tur ell's Legacy. Among his class poems 
are Bill and Joe, The Old Man Dreams, and The Boys. 
Tenderness and charity are depicted in such poems as 
The Voiceless, The Silent Melody, Avis, Iris, Under the 
Violets, and The Meeting of the Dryads. Lofty beauty 
and religious sentiment vie with each other in The 
Chambered Nautilus, The Living Temple, and The 
Promise. 

6. On the occasion of the "Breakfast" given him by 
the publishers of the Atlantic Monthly, Holmes read his 
poem "The Iron Gate," giving a cheerful description of 
old age : — 

I come not here your morning hour to sadden, 
A limping pilgrim, leaning on Ms staff, — 

I, who have never deemed it sin to gladden 
This vale of sorrows with a wholesome laugh. 

It has been ranked by some with Bryant's Flood of Years 
and Longfellow's M oritur i Salutamus. 



OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES 



131 



BILL AND JOE. 

Come, dear old comrade, you and I 
Will steal an hour from days gone by — 
The shining days when life was new. 
And all was bright as morning dew. 
The lusty days of long ago, 
When you were Bill and I was Joe. 

Your name may flaunt a titled trail, 
Proud as a cockerel's rainbow tail ; 
And mine as brief appendix wear 
As Tam O'Shanter's luckless mare; 
Today, old friend, remember still 
That I am Joe and you are Bill. 

You've won the great world's envied prize. 

And grand you look in people's eyes. 

With Hon. and L.L. D., 

In big brave letters, fair to see — 

Your fist, old fellow ! ofif they go ! — 

How are you, Bill? How are you, Joe? 

You've won the judge's ermined robe ; 
You've taught your name to half the globe; 
You've sung mankind a deathless strain; 
You've made the dead past live again; 
The world may call you what it will. 
But you and I are Joe and Bill. 

The chaffing young folks stare and say, 
"See those old buffers, bent and gray ; 
They talk Hke fellows in their teens ! 
Mad, poor old boys ! That's what it means" — 



132 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



And shake their heads; they Httle know 
The throbbing hearts of Bill and Joe — 

How Bill forgets his hour of pride, 
While Joe sits smiling at his side; 
How Joe, in spite of time's disguise. 
Finds the old schoolmate in his eyes — 
Those calm, stern eyes that melt and fill 
As Joe looks fondly up at Bill. 

Ah, pensive scholar! What is fame? 

A fitful tongue of leaping flame ; 

A giddy whirlwind's fickle gust. 

That lifts a pinch of mortal dust ; 

A few swift years, and who can show 

Which dust was Bill, and which was Joe? 

The weary idol takes his stand, 
Holds out his bruised and aching hand, 
While gaping thousands come and go — 
How vain it seems, this empty show — 
Till all at once his pulses thrill: 
'Tis poor old Joe's "God bless you. Bill!" 

And shall we breathe in happier spheres 
The names that pleased our mortal ears, — 
In some sweet lull of harp and song, 
For earth-born spirits none too long, 
Just whispering of the world below. 
Where this was Bill, and that was Joe. 

No matter; while our home is here 
No sounding name is half so dear; 
When fades at length our lingering day, 



OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES 



133 



Who cares what pompous tombstones say? 
Read on the hearts that love us still 
Hie jacet Joe. Hie jaeet Bill. 

I. Read the poem carefully. Explain the second and 
ninth stanzas. 

II. Translate Hie jaeet. 

III. Describe Bill and Joe as you see them. Write an 
imaginary conversation. 

THE LAST LEAF. 
I saw him once before * 
As he passed by the door; 

And again 
The pavement stones resound 
As he totters o'er the ground 

With his cane. 

They say that in his prime, * 
Ere the pruning knife of Time 

Cut him down, 
Not a better man was found 
By the crier on his round 

Through the town. 

But now he walks the streets, ^ 
And he looks at all he meets. 

Sad and wan; 
And he shakes his feeble head, 
That it seems as if he said, 

'They are gone!" 

The mossy marbles rest * 
On the lips that he has prest 
In their bloom; 



134 STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITERATURE 



And the names he loved to hear 
Have been carved for many a year 
On the tomb. 

My grandmamma has said, — 
Poor old lady ! she is dead 

Long ago, — 
That he had a Roman nose, 
And his cheek was like a rose ' ' 

In the snow. - , ^ 

But now his nose is thin, 
And it rests upon his chin 

Like a staff ; 
And a crook is in his back, 
And a melancholy crack 

In his laugh. 

I know it is a sin 
For me to sit and grin 

At him here ; 
But the old three-cornered hat. 
And the breeches, and all that, 

Are so queer ! 

And, if I should live to be 
The last leaf upon the tree 

In the spring. 
Let them smile, as I do now, 
At the old forsaken bough 

Where I cling. 

I. Write an imaginary description of the old gentl< 
man in the story. Describe him in his youth. 

II. Select similes and metaphors. 



OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES 



135 



SUGGESTED WRITINGS FOR FURTHER READING 



The Autocrat of the Break- 
fast Table. 

The Poet at the Breakfast 
Table, 

The Chambered Nautilus. 
The Sphinx. 

Lexington, the Meeting of 
the Dryads. 



The Deacon's Masterpiece. 
The Ballad of an Oyster- 
man. 
The . Spectre Pig. 
Union and Liberty. 
The Boys. 

The Living Temple. 



CRITICISMS. 

1. 'Tew men of letters have been so lovable and so 
beloved as Doctor Holmes, and largely because few have 
revealed so frankly and fully their personalities in their 
writings. His books are a continuous autobiography; 
he was always 'a Boswell writing out himself . . . ' As a 
poet of occasion, he was without a peer. His marvelous 
facility never failed him. A pertinent topic was always 
ready, and treated with telling aptness and pungent wit. 
His resources for happy similes and anecdotes, verbal 
drolleries, frolicsome puns, quaint analogies, and bril- 
liant epigrams seemed inexhaustible. Age could not 
wither him nor custom stale his infinite variety. He was 
the laureate of his city and university, and for nearly 
half a century a public event seldom occurred in either 
without being graced by the presence of his sprightly 
Muse. 

I 'm a florist in verse, and what would people say 
If I came to a banquet without my bouquet? 

— Ahenietliy's Literature. 

2. 'Though the humorist in him rather outweighed 



136 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



the poet, he wrote a few things, like The Chambered 
Nautilus and Homesick in Heaven^ which are as purely 
and deeply poetic as The One-Hoss Shay and The Pro- 
logue are funny. Dr. Holmes was not of the stuff of 
which idealists and enthusiasts are made. As a physician 
and a student of science, the facts of the material uni- 
verse counted for much with him. His clear, positive, 
alert intellect was always impatient of mysticism. He 
had the sharp eye of the satirist and the man of the 
world for oddities of dress, dialect, and manners. He 
acknowledged a preference for the man with a pedigree, 
the man who owned family portraits, had been brought 
up in familiarity with books, and could pronounce View' 
correctly. Readers unhappily not of the ^Brahmin caste 
of New England' have sometimes resented as snobbish- 
ness Holmes's harping on 'family,' and his perpetual ap- 
plication of certain favorite shibboleths to other people's 
ways of speech. 'The woman who calc'lates is lost.' " 

Learning condemns beyond the reach of hope 

The careless lips that speak of saop for soap. 

Do put your accents in the proper spot: 

Don't, let me beg you, don't say "How?" for **What?'* 

The things named pants" in certain documents, 

A word not made for gentlemen, but ' * gents. ' ' 

He had a great fondness for Boston ways and things, 
and invented the playful saying, ''Boston Statehouse is 
the hub of- the solar system." — Selected. 

references: 

Life and Letters of O. W. Holmes, Morse. 
Oliver Wendell Holmes, Kennedy. 
Life of O. W. Holmes, Brown, 



OLIVEE WENDELL, HOLMES 



137 



Authors and Friends, Mrs. Fields. 
American Poets and Their Homes, Stoddard. 

poets' tributes. 

Our Autocrat, and To O. W. Holmes, Whittief. 
To O. W. H. on his 75th Birthday, Lowell, 
The Sailing of the Autocrat, Aldrich. 
Oliver Wendell Holmes, Winter. 
To Oliver Wendell Holmes on his 70th Birthday, H. 
H. Jackson. 

0. W. H., Lucy Larcom. 
Our Laureate, Bret Ha/rte. 

QUESTIONS ON HOLMES, 

1. Sketch the public and private life of Doctor 
Holmes. 

2. Why is Holmes called the "Poet Laureate of 
America ?" 

3. Which is better — his prose or his verse? 

4. Write four memory gems. Name ten poems. 
Four prose works. 

5. What poet spoke of Holmes's wit as "Holmes's 
rockets ?" 

6. In which of his writings do the following charac- 
ters occur: — Elsie Venner, Iris, the Schoolmistress, the 
Divinity Student, the Kohinoor, the Sculpin, Byles Grid- 
ley, and the Old Gentleman who sits opposite. 

7. Tell about Number Five, Little Boston, Avis, Myr- 
tle Hazard, Benjamin Franklin, and John. 

8. What noted reformer was a cousin of Doctor 
Holmes ? 



138 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



9. In which of Holmes's writings do the following 
quotations occur : — 

''Yes, I love the little globule where I have spent more 
than four-score years, and I like to think that some of 
my thoughts and some of my emotions may live them- 
selves over again when I am sleeping." 

*'He was a man who loved to stick around home, as 
much as any cat you ever see in your life. He used to 
say he'd as lief have a tooth pulled as to go anywheres. 
Always got sick> he said, when he went away, and never 
sick when he didn't. Pretty nigh killed himself goin' 
about lecturin' two or three winters; talking in cold 
country lyceums ; as he used to say, goin' home to cold 
parlors and bein' treated to cold apples and cold water, 
and then goin' up into a , cold bed in a cold chamber, and 
comin' home next mornin' with a cold in his head as bad 
as a horse distemper." 

''I have learned to accept meekly what has been allotted 
to me, but I can not honestly say that I think my sin has 
been greater than my suffering. I bear the ignorance 
and the evil-doing of whole generations in my single 
person. I never drew a breath of air nor took a step 
that was not a punishment for another's fault. I may 
have had many wrong thoughts, but I cannot have done 
many wrong deeds — for my cage has been a narrow one, 
and I have paced it alone. I have looked through the 
bars and seen the great world of men busy and happy, 
but I had no part in their doings. I have known what it 
was to dream of the great passions ; but since my mother 
kissed me before she died, no woman's lips have pressed 
my cheek, — nor ever will. The young girl's eyes glit- 
tered with a sudden film, and almost without a thought, 



EDGAR ALLAN POE 



139 



but with a warm human instinct that rushed up into her 
face with her heart's blood, she bent over and kissed 
him. It was the sacrament that washed out the memory 
of long years of bitterness, and I should hold it un- 
worthy thought to defend her." 

"People that make puns are like wanton boys that put 
coppers on the railroad tracks. They amuse themselves 
and other children, but their little trick may upset a 
freight train of conversation for the sake of a battered 
witticism." 

EDGAR ALLAN POE. 
1 809- 1 849. 

"The most original American genius" — Tennyson* 

"Here comes Poe with his raven, like Barnaby Rudge, 
Three-fifths of him genius and two-fifths sheer fudge." 

— Lowell. 

EDGAR ALLAN POE was One of the most brilliant writ- 
ers who ever lived. His writings, however, belong 
to a different sphere from those of Longfellow, Whittier, 
Bryant, Emerson, or Holmes. They wrote from the 
realms of nature, human joy, happiness, hope and ease. 
Poe spoke from the dungeon of depression. He was in 
constant struggle with poverty, and his whole life was 
a tragedy. Yet "from out these weird depths came forth 
things so beautiful that their very sadness is charming 
and holds us in a spell of bewitching enchantment." 
Fawcett says of him: — 

He loved all shadowy spots, all seasons drear; 
All ways of darkness lured his ghastly whim; 



140 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



Strange fellowship he held with goblins grim, 
At whose demoniac eyes he felt no fear. 

By desolate paths of dream where fancy's owl 

Sent long lugubrious hoots through somber air, 
Amid thoughts' gloomiest cave he went to prowl 
• And met delirium in her awful lair. 

Poe was born in Boston, February 19, 1809. His 
father was a Marylander. His grandfather^ also from 
the Monumental State, was a distinguished Revolution- 
ary soldier and a friend of Lafayette. Poe's parents 
were both actors who toured the country in the ordinary 
manner. When he was but two years old, they died in 
Richmond, Va., within two weeks of each other. Their 
three children, two daughters, one older and one younger 
than Edgar, were all adopted by friends of the family. 
Mr. John Allan, a rich tobacco merchant of Virginia, 
adopted Edgar and insisted upon calling him Edgar 
Allan Poe. "As the boy was both beautiful and preco- 
cious, the Allans, like many other unwise parents, grati- 
fied their own selfish pride by showing him off on all 
sorts of occasions. Instead of the steady, kind, firm 
reign of wise parental government, this bright boy ran 
loose, guided by his own childish fancies and caprices." 
In one of his best stories, William Wilson, Poe says : "I 
am the descendant of a race whose imaginative and 
easily excitable temperament has at all times rendered 
them remarkable and in my infancy I gave evidence of 
having fully inherited the family character. As I ad- 
vanced in years, it was more strongly developed, becom- 
ing for many reasons a cause of serious disquietude to 
my friends, and of positive injury to myself. I grew 
self-willed, addicted to the wildest caprices, and a prey 



EDGAR ALLAN POE 



141 



to the most ungovernable passions. Weak-minded, and 
beset with constitutional infirmities akin to my own, my 
parents could do but little to check the evil propensities 
which distinguished me." Mr. Allan took great interest 
in the education of his adopted son, sending him first to 
England, afterwards to the Richmond Academy and to 
the University of Virginia, and later to West Point. 

V/hile in the University, Poe acquired the habits of 
drinking and gambling. He contracted heavy gambling 
debts which Mr. Allan angrily refused to pay. This 
brought on a series of quarrels which finally resulted in 
Poe being disinherited and permanently separated from 
his benefactor. 'Thus turned out upon the cold, unsym- 
pathetic world, without business training, without 
friends, without money, knowing not how to- make 
money, — yet with a proud, imperious, aristocratic nature, 
— we have the beginning of the saddest story of any life 
in literature — struggling for nearly twenty years in 
gloom and poverty, with here and there a ray of sun- 
shine." 

As a writer of short stories, Poe had no equal in 
America. His story. The Gold Bug, has been conceded 
by many to be the best short story ever written. He 
worked up the details of his plot with artful ingenuity, 
giving minute attention to the smallest illustrative par- 
ticulars, and coloring the whole with a vivid word paint- 
ing which made the scenes of gloom and terror which he 
loved to depict especially fascinating and realistic to the 
reader. Poe wrote poetry with equal success. His 
poems are among the most original in the world. He 
was purely an imaginative poet. There is no preaching 
or philosophy about his poems. One of his biographers 



142 STTTDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



says: "He heard in his dreams the tinkhng footfalls of 
angels and seraphims and subordinated everything in 
his verse to the delicious effect of musical sound." He 
has never had a rival in poetic harmony. Poe was also 
a fine reader and elocutionist. He had a most musical 
voice, and rendered his poems with such beauty and 
pathos that those who had the good fortune to hear him 
never forgot them. As a literary critic, Poe was with- 
out a rival. His favorable opinion was greatly sought 
for by writers of his time, and no one's censure was so 
greatly dreaded. When influenced by personal feeling, 
he could be savagely severe, but otherwise he was just 
and impartial. Lowell said, ''He seems frequently to 
mistake his vial of prussic acid for his inkstand." 

Among Poe's most noted poems may be mentioned 
Annabel Lee, The Bells, The Raven, Lenore, To My 
Mother, The Haunted Palace, The Conqueror Worm, 
The City in the Sea, and For Annie. His best known 
prose works are The Gold Bug, The Masque of the Red 
Death, A Descent into the Maelstrom, and The Fall of 
the House of Usher. His best critical works are : — The 
Poetic Principle and The Philosophy of Composition. 

In 1835, Poe was privately married to his beautiful 
fourteen-year-old cousin, Virginia Clemm. Their wedded 
life was in itself a poem. "To him she was rudder and 
plummet and anchor — all that typifies hope, faith, salva- 
tion ; and when she left him he was shipv/recked." Their 
first home was in Richmond, but later they lived suc- 
cessively in New York, Philadelphia, and Fordham. 
They moved to the latter place with the hope that the 
country air might benefit Mrs. Poe. who had been an 
invalid for some years, but she died in the following Jan- 



EDGAR ALLAN POE 



143 



uary, 1847. "She lay on the straw bed, wrapped in her 
husband's great coat, with a large tortoise-shell cat in 
her bosom. The wonderful cat seemed conscious of her 
great usefulness. The coat and the cat were the suf- 
ferer's only means of warmth, except as her husband 
held her hands, and her mother her feet." Ulahime and 
Annabel Lee were written in memory of the adored wife. 
In the closing Hues of the latter, we read : — 

But our love it was stronger by far than the love 

Of those who were older than we, 

Of many far wiser than we; 
And neither the angels in heaven above, 

Nor the demons down under the sea, 
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul 

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee. 

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams 

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee: 
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes 

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; 
And so all the night-tide, I lie down by the side 
Of my darling — my darling — my life and my bride 

In the sepulcher there by the sea. 

In her tomb by the sounding sea. 

Poe was deeply attached to his wife's mother, and ex- 
presses his affection in the poem To My Mother. Lenore 
and To One in Paradise were written in memory of a 
classmate's mother, Mrs. Stannard, who had been ex- 
ceedingly kind to the motherless poet. She died while 
Poe was homeward bound from Europe. He was over- 
come with grief and used to visit her grave in all seasons, 
spending hours in darkness and rain, in fancy commun- 
ing with her spirit. In the poem, Lenore, he imagines 
her to be a young and beautiful maiden, and himself her 



144 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITEEATURE 

sorrowing lover. In general Poe's poetry is not the 
poetry of the heart, and its passion is not the passion of 
flesh and blood. The thought of death is always near, 
and also the shadowy borderland between death and life. 

The play is the tragedy "Man" 
And its hero the Conqueror Worm. 

The above lines are from some verses inserted in his 
powerful prose tale, Ligeia, in which the theme is the 
power of the will to overcome death. In that singularly 
impressive poem, "The Sleeper," the morbid horror 
which invests the tomb springs from the same source, the 
materiality of Poe's imagination, which refuses to let 
the soul go free from the body. His tales represent va- 
rious grades of the frightful and the ghastly, from the 
mere bugaboo story Hke The Black Cat, which makes 
children afraid to go in the dark, up to the breathless 
terror of The Cask of Amontillado, or The Red Death. 
His masterpiece in this line is the fateful tale of The 
Fall of the House of Usher. Poe was the founder of 
the detective story. Among his most successful stories 
in this line were The Gold Bug, The Purloined Letter, 
The Mystery of Marie Roget, The Murders in the Rue 
Morgue, The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar, etc. 
Poe was a master of plots. He liked to put his charac- 
ters in a position where escape seemed impossible, and 
then to ferret out a neat solution of the puzzle with his 
masterful analytic power. While Dickens's Barnaby 
Rudge was being issued serially, Poe showed his skill as 
a plot-raveler by publishing a paper in Graham's Maga- 
zine in which he correctly raveled the tangled intrigue of 
the novel and predicted the Unale in advance. 



EDGAR ALLAN POE 



145 



Edgar Allan Poe held the position of critic and editor 
with the following magazines in succession: — Literary 
Messenger, Richmond; The Gentleman's Magazine, and 
Graham's Magazine, Philadelphia; Evening Mhror and 
Broadway Journal, New York. His first volume of 
poems was published in 1829. In 1833 he won a prize 
of $ICMD, awarded by the Saturday Visitor for his MSS. 
Found in a Bottle. Nine years later he won a similar 
sum from the Dollar Magazine for The Gold Bug. He 
was also a contributor to miscellaneous magazines. After 
the death of his wife, he was in the lecture field where 
he met with some success in his talks upon The Female 
Poets of America, Cosmogony of the Universe, and the 
Poetic Principle. Poe is the one American genius who is 
better known abroad than at home. His stories and 
poems have been translated into Spanish, Italian, Ger- 
man and other languages. 

There is a sad fascination about Edgar Allan Poe both 
as a man and as an author. His personal character has 
been represented as pronouncedly double. The follow- 
ing selection from Hayne's poem, Poe, illustrates how 
he represented the brilliant poet as an angel and a demon 
clothed in one body : — 

Two mighty spirits dwell in Mm: 
One, a wild demon, weird and dim, 
The darkness of whose ebon wings 
Did shroud unutterable things: 
One, a fair angel, in the skies 
Of whose serene, unshadowed eyes 
Were seen the lights of Paradise. 

To these, in turn, he gave the whole 

Vast empire of his brooding soul; i 



146 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



Now filled with strains of heavenly swell, 
Now thrilled with awful tones of hell: 
Wide were his being's strange extremes, 
'Twixt nether glooms, and Eden gleams 
Of tender, or majestic dreams. 

The poet has received an over-abundant measure of 
praise and blame, but to those who know the full story 
of his sad Hfe it is little wonder that his sensitive, pas- 
sionate nature sought surcease from disappointment in 
the intoxicating cup, for which he inherited a wild love, 
his father having been a drunkard. It was but natural 
for a man of his nervous temperament to fall into that 
state of melancholy moroseness which would chide even 
the angels for taking away his beautiful "Annabel Lee." 
Such poems as The Raven and Lenore show through 
what bitter experiences and broken hopes the poet 
passed. Someone has charitably suggested that Poe's 
character and unhappy life were necessary to the marvel- 
ous productions of his pen. We may well suppose it 
was and forget his unhappy misguided life, remembering 
only his great genius and his high standing among the 
literary lights. 

Edgar Allan Poe died in Baltimore, October 7, 1849. 
Formerly there was a generally accepted idea that he 
died of a debauch, but it is now a well-established fact 
that he was the victim of a foul poHtical conspiracy, 
which in those days of fraud and force were considered 
entirely justifiable by men of fierce passions and lawless 
lives. He arrived in the city on the eve of an election, 
was seized with a number of others, penned in a well- 
guarded room and plied for hours with drugged liquor, 
then dragged from one precinct to another and forced to 



EDGAE ALLAN POE 



147 



vote under different names. His exquisitely balanced 
brain, which needed only a few drops of alcohol to hurl it 
from its poise into an abyss of madness, soon "sank be- 
neath Life's burdens in the streets of Baltimore," and he 
was shoved into a cab and sent to a hospital. Here the 
walls rang with his despairing cry, "Is there no ransom 
for the deathless soul?" and here he breathed his last. 
The body was borne to the Westminster Churchyard, 
where the wealthy, influential Poes owned a lot, and 
here, restored after long wandering to the midst of his 
own family, as it were, the alien found a last resting 
place. 

Ah, those memories sore and saddening! Ah, that night of 
anguish maddening 1 
When my lone heart suffered shipwreck on a demon-haunted 
shore — 

When the fiends grew wild with laughter, and the silence falling 
after 

Was more awful and appalling than the cannon's deadly roar — 
Than the tramp of mighty armies thro ' the streets of Baltimore. 

* * * Mr * * * 

No one near to save or love me, no kind face to watch above me, 
Though I heard the sound of footsteps like the waves upon the 
shore — 

Beating — beating — beating — beating — now advancing — now re- 
treating — 

With a dull and dreary rhythm, with a long, continuous roar— - 

Heard the sound of human footsteps in the streets of Baltimore. 
»»***»» 

Where was't thou, O Power Eternal, when the fiery fiend infernal 
Beat me with his burning fasces till I sank to rise no more? 

Oh! was all my lifelong error crowded in that night of terror? 
Did my sin find expiation which to judgment went before, 
Summoned to a dread tribunal in the streets of Baltimore? 

— ^Verses purporting to be dictated to a spiritualistic medium by 
the dead poet. Author unknown. 



148 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



An engraving by Halpinis, taken in Poe's early man- 
hood, shows a sHght, erect figure, of medium height, 
athletic and well-molded; his head finely modeled, with 
large, high forehead and temples ; his hands white and 
fair as a woman's, — in short a graceful gentleman, even 
in the garb of poverty. He had a handsome intellectual 
face, dark, clustering hair, clear, sad gray eyes, and a 
mouth whose smile was sweet and winning. We can 
imagine the soft musical voice, and the quiet easy dignity 
which no failure could humble. Another photograph 
taken shortly before his death shows all too plainly the 
ravages made by the spirit within. There is a dramatic, 
defiant bearing, and with it the bitterness of scorn. There 
is a sneer about the mouth, and the whole face tells of 
battling, of conquering external enemies, and of many a 
defeat when the demon and angel were at war. 

A PARTIAL LIST OF POE's WRITINGS FOR REFERENCE. 



The Fall of the House of The Poetic Principle. 
Usher. 



The Raven. 
Lenore. 
Annabel Lee. 
Ulalume. 
Israfel. 
The Bells. 

The Haunted Palace. 
The City in the Sea. 
To Helen. 



The Gold Bug. 
MSS. Found in a Bottle. 
The Purloined Letter. 
William Wilson. (Partly 



biographical.) 
Landor's Cottage. 



The Tell-Tale Heart. 
The Murders in the Rue 



Morgue. 



LENORE. 
Ah, broken is the golden bowl, 
The spirit flown forever! 



EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Let the bell toll ! 

A saintly soul 
Floats on the Stygian river; 
And, Guy de Vere, 
Hast thou no tear? 

Weep now or never more ! 
See, on yon drear 
And rigid bier 

Low lies thy love, Lenore ! 
Come, let the burial-rite be read — 

The funeral song be sung! — 
An anthem for the queenliest dead 

That ever died so young — 
A dirge for her the doubly dead, 

In that she died so young! 
*'Wretches ! ye loved her for her wealth, 

And hated her for her pride ; 
And when she fell in feeble health, 

Ye bless'd her — that she died! 
How shall the ritual then be read? 

The requiem how be sung 
By you — by yours, the evil eye — 

By yours the slanderous tongue 
That did to death the innocence 

That died, and died so young?" 
Peccavimiis ; 
But rave not thus! 

And ^let a sabbath song 
Go up to God so solemnly, the dead may 

feel no wrong! 

The sweet Lenore 

Hath ''gone before," 



150 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



With Hope that, flew beside, 

Leaving the wild 

For the dear child 
That should have been thy bride — 

For her, the fair 

And debonair, 
That now so lovely lies, 

The Hfe upon her yellow hair 
But not within her eyes — 

The life still there. 

Upon her hair — 
The death upon her eyes. 
''Avaunt! tonight 
My heart is light. 

No dirge will I upraise, 
But waft the angel on her flight 

With a paean of old days ! 
Let no bell toll !— 
Lest her sweet soul, 

Amid its hallowed mirth, 
Should catch the note. 
As it doth float — 

Up from the damned earth. 
To friends above, from friends below, 

The indignant ghost is riven — 
From hell unto a high estate 

Far up within the heaven — 
From grief and groan, 
To a golden throne, 

Beside the King of Heaven." 
(Written at 20 years of age.) 



EDGAR ALI^N POE 



151 



I. Aim to fully understand the poem. Explain: — 
Stygian river, bier, dirge, anthem, ritual, requiem, Pec- 
cavimus, debonair, paean, avaunt. 

II. What incident furnished the foundation for this 
poem? 

THE RAVEN. 

The central idea in this, the most celebrated poem of 
Edgar Allan Poe, is thus stated in his essay on the Phi- 
losophy of Composition: — 

**I asked myself what, according to the universal understand- 
ing of mankind, is the most melancholy of poetic topics. The 
answer was obvious : it is Death. I then inquired when this most 
melancholy of topics is most poetical. Here, too, the reply was 
obvious: it is when it most closely allies itself to beauty. Hence 
the death of a beautiful woman is unquestionably the most 
poetical topic in the world; and the lips best suited for such topic 
are those of a bereaved lover. This is the essential motive of my 
poem. ' ' 

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak 
and weary, ^ 

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten 
lore, — 

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a 
tapping. 

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber- 
door. 

"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, ''tapping at my chamber- 
door, — 

Only this, and nothing more." 

Ah ! distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December, 
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon 
the floor. 



152 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to 
borrow 

From my books surcease of sorrow, — sorrow for the lost 
Lenore ; 

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name 

Lenore, 
Nameless here forevermore. 
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple 

curtain ^ 
Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt 

before ; 

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood re- 
peating, 

Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber- 
door — 

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber- 
door ; 

This it is, and nothing more." 

Presently my soul grew stronger : hesitating then no 
longer, * 

"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I im- 
plore ; 

But the fact is, I was napping, and so gently you came 
rapping, 

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber- 
door. 

That I scarce was sure I heard you" — Here I opened 
wide the door : 
Darkness there, and nothing more. 

Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, won- 
dering, fearing, ® 



EDGAE ALLAN POE • 153 

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to 
dream before ; 

But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no 
token, 

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word 
"Lenore"? 

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word 
''Lenore" ! 
Merely this, and nothing more. 

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me 
burning, ® 

Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than be- 
fore. 

''Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window- 
lattice ; 

Let me see then what thereat is, and this mystery ex- 
plore — 

Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery ex- 
plore : 

'Tis the wind, and nothing more." 

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt 
and flutter, ^ 

In there stepped a saintly Raven of the stately days of 
yore. 

Not the least obeisance made he, not a minute stopped or 

stayed he, 

But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my cham- 
ber-door ; 

Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber- 
door — 

Perched and sat, and nothing more. 



154 STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITERATURE 

Then this ebon bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, ^ 
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it 
wore, 

''Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, 

"art sure no craven ; 
Ghastly, grim and ancient Raven, wandering from the 

nightly shore. 

Tell me what thy lordly name is in the Night's Plutonian 
shore !" 

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore!" 

Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so 

plainly, ^ 
Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore; 
For we can not help agreeing that no living human being 
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber- 
door — 

Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his cham- 
ber-door. 

With such a name as "Nevermore" ! 

But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke 
only ^0 

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did out- 
pour. 

Nothing further then he uttered, not a feather then he 
fluttered, 

Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have 
flown before: 

On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown 
before!" 

Then the bird said, "Nevermore I" 



EDGAR ALLAN POE 



155 



Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, 
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and 
store, 

Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful 
disaster 

Followed fast, and followed faster, till his songs one bur- 
den bore, 

Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore, 
Of — Never — Nevermore !" 

But the Raven, still beguiling all my sad soul into smil- 
ing, ^2 

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and 
bust, and door ; 

Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to link- 
ing 

Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of 
yore — 

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous 
bird of yore — 
Meant in croaking "Nevermore" ! 

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable express- 
ing 13 

To the fowl, whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's 
core : 

This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease re- 
clining 

On the cushion's velvet lining the lamp-light gloated o'er ; 
But whose violet velvet lining, with the lamp-light gloat- 
o'er, 

She shall press — ah ! nevermore. 



156 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATUEE 

Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an 
unseen censer ^* 

Swung by seraphim, whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted 
floor. 

"Wretch," I cried, ''thy God hath lent thee, by these 

angels he hath sent thee. 
Respite — respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of 

Lenore ! 

Quaff, O qauff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost 
Lenore !" 
Quoth the Raven, ''Nevermore !" 

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! — prophet still, if bird 
or devil! 

Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee 
here ashore. 

Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted, 
On this home by horror haunted — ^tell me truly, I im- 
plore. 

Is there — is there balm in Gilead? Tell me — tell me, I 
implore !" 
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore I" 

"Prophet !" said I, "thing of evil — prophet still, if bird 
or devil! " 

By that heaven that bends above us, by that God we 
both adore, 

Tell this soul, with sorrow laden, if, within that distant 
Aidenn, 

It shall clasp a sainted maiden, whom the angels name 
Lenore — 



EDGAR ALLAN POE . I57 

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name 
Lenore." 
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore !" 

"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or friend !" I 
shrieked, upstarting, ^® 

"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian 
shore : 

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath 
spoken. 

Leave my loneliness unbroken, quit the bust above my 
door : 

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form 
from off my door." 
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore !" 

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sit- 
ting, ^« 
* On the pallid bust of Pallas, just above my chamber- 
door ; 

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is 
dreaming, 

And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow 
on the floor : 

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on 
the floor 
Shall be lifted — nevermore. 

L Explain surcease, fantastic terrors, obeisance, 
window-lattice, bust of Pallas, ebon bird, Plutonian shore, 
ungainly fowl, placid, ominous bird of yore, bosom's core, 
unseen censer, seraphim, respite and nepenthe, prophet, 
halm in Gilead, distant Aidenn, Hend. 




158 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



11. Make a list of the adjectives which the poet uses 
to describe the Raven. 

III. Paraphrase the poem. 

IV. Divide the poem into scenes. 

V. Picture the room where the bereaved lover was 
sitting. 

SUGGESTED WRITINGS FOR FURTHER STUDY. 



The Gold Bug. 
Landor's Cottage. 
A Descent into the Mael- 
strom. 
William Wilson. 
Annabel Lee. 



Some Words with a Mum- 
my. 
The Bells. 

To One in Paradise. 
Israfel. 

To My Mother. 



CRITICISMS. 

1. Poe was not an habitual drunkard; a single glass 
made him the easy prey of any coarse or pitiless hands 
into which he might fall. He was a man inebriate when 
sober, his brain surging with emotion, and a stimulant 
that only served to steady common men bewildered him. 

His mature years were a battle with inherited 
taint, and there were long periods when he was the vic- 
tor. . . . The wonder is that the sensitive, feminine 
spirit, worshiping beauty and abhorrent of ugliness and 
pain, combating with pride and diseased appetite, did not 
sooner yield, was not utterly overcome at the outset of 
these experiences. . . . Near the close of the strug- 
gle he made a brave effort and never was so earnest and 
resolved, never so much his own master, as just before 
the end. — Stedman. 

2. Poe lived in two worlds; the one was made deso- 



EDGAR ALLAN POE 



159 



late and miserable by his early orphanhood, his reckless 
youth, poverty, drudgery and the demons worse than 
these which beset and blasted his career; the other is the 
world of his inner mind, the world of memories coming 
from afar. — John Nichols. 

3. His biography explains what his tales allow one to 
guess; that he remained to the end ignorant of Hfe — 
with the pitiful ignorance of a gifted, wayward child. 
Unerring as were some of his intuitions, profoundly as he 
knew some of the dark secrets of the heart, life has wide 
sunny spaces in which he never wandered, uplands that 
he never cared to climb. "Poe did not know enough to 
be a great poet," said Sidney Lanier. Nor did he love 
enough. . . . He did certain things incomparably 
well. He showed that the art of story writing, like that 
of the drama, is largely the art of preparation, of secur- 
ing, in his own words, ''a certain unique or single effect." 
In accordance with this *'one pre-established design" 
every word was deliberately fashioned. His power of 
clear, compressed narrative, his mastery of symbolism 
and sensuous imagery, his instinct for color and for all 
the cadences of English prose give his best writing an 
almost unrivaled felicity. — Bliss Perry. 

4. The greatest poet, perhaps the greatest literary 
genius of America. . . . The only example of an 
American prophet almost without honor in his own coun- 
try. . . . An English critic has described your 
stories as ''Hawthorne and delirium tremens." I am not 
aware that extreme orderliness, masterly elaboration and 
unchecked progress toward a predetermined effect are 
characteristic of the visions of delirium. If they be, then 
there is a great deal of delirium tremens in your style. 



160 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



But your ingenuity, your completeness, your occasional 
luxuriance of fancy and wealth of jewel-like words are 
not perhaps gifts which Mr. Hawthorne has at his com- 
mand. He was a great writer — the greatest writer in 
prose fiction whom America has produced. But you and 
he have not much in common except a certain mortuary 
turn of mind and a taste for gloomy allegories about the 
working conscience. — Andrew Lang. 

5. If Poe's life was a tangle of contradictions, his 
posthumous fame has been a very conflict of opposites. 
He has been elevated to heaven ; he has been depressed 
to hell ; he has been pictured angel and devil, drunkard 
and puritan. His poetry has seemed to this one the 
empty tinkling of a cymbal; to that, the last expression 
of verbal beauty. But despite the warfare of opinions, 
he has been read and imitated throughout the world, and 
he is still, after half a century, the dominant influence of 
three literatures. — Charles Whihley. 

REFERENCES. 

Edgar Poe and His Critics, Mrs. Whitman. 

Works of Edgar Allan Poe, Stedman and Woodherry. 

Edgar Allan Poe, Woodherry. 

Life of Edgar Allan Poe, Gill. 

Poem read at the Dedication of the Actors' Monument 
to Poe, May 4, 1885, William Winter. 

QUESTIONS ON POE. 

1. Tell the story of Poe's life. 

2. Name five of his poems. Five prose works. One 
literary criticism. 

3. How does Poe rank among the men of letters ? 



EDGAR ALLAN POE 



161 



4. Name incidents in his life which tended to make 
him the character that he was. 

5. Which of Poe's poems do you like best? Why? 

6. What is there about Poe's writings that holds the 
reader's interest? 

7. Among what scenes are most of his poems laid? 

8. Tell the story of The Raven. 

9. With what American author has he been com- 
pared ? 

10. Why is Poe so little admired in his own country ? 



Poetry has been the guardian angel of humanity in all 
ages. — Lamartine. 



CHAPTER 11. 



SOME POPULAR POETS OF 
LATER DATE. 

Poet! esteem thy noble part, 
Still listen, still record, 

Sacred historian of the heart, 
And moral nature's lord. 



James Whitcomb Riley. 
Joaquin Miller. 
Eugene Field. 
Will Carleton. 



■Milnes, 



Poetry is a great and beautiful utterance set in an ar- 
tistic frame. As a river moves along, ornamented by its 
banks on which wave trees and grass and flutter the 
wings of happy birds, so rhyme and rhythm and metric 
feet are only the attractive borders of some deep stream 
of truth. — Professor Swing. 



JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY. 



JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY, 



1853. 

''The Hoosier Poet." 

To every man who has been a country boy and ^ ' played hookey ' ' 
on the schoolmaster to go swimming, or fishing, or bird-nesting, 
or stealing water-melons, or simply to lie on the orchard grass, 
many of Eiley's poems come as an echo from his own experiences, 
bringing a vivid and pleasingly melodious retrospect of the past. 

— Selected. 

JAMES Whitcomb Riley is the poet of the country 
people. He was not raised on a farm himself, but 
he has so completely imbibed its atmosphere that few 
of his readers would suspect that he had not actually 
lived among the scenes he describes. When the Frost is 
on the Pumpkin, The Ole Swimmin' Hole, Airly Days, 
That Old Sweetheart of Mine, and scores of others, go 
straight to the heart with a mixture of pleasant recollec- 
tions, humor and sincerity that is most delightful. 

When your apples all is gathered, and the ones a feller keeps 
Is poured around the cellar floor in red and yellow heaps; 
And your cider makin's over, and your wimmern folks is through 
With their mince and apple-butter, and their souse and sausage^ 
too; 

I don't know how to tell it — but if such a thing could be 
As the angels wantin' boardin', and they'd call around on me 
I'd want to 'commodate 'em, the whole endurin' flock, 
When the frost is on the pumkin and the fodder 's in the shock. 

165 



166 STUDIES IN AMEBICAN LITERATURE 



Oh! tell me a tale of the airly days — 

Of the times as they ust to be ; 

Filler of Fi-er" and Shakespeare Plays'' 

Is a 'most too deep for me! 
I want plane facts and I want plane words, 

Of the good old-fashioned ways, 
When speech run free as the songs of birds, 

'Way back in the airly days. 

• He has written many verses for children that are 
equally famous. Little Orphan Annie and The Raggedy 
Man are first among those especially fine in their faith- 
fulness to child-life. There is a certain artless catching 
sing-song in his verses that is more pleasing to the young 
than the jingle of the "Mother Goose Melodies." 

An' the Raggedy Man, he knows most rhymes. 
An ' tells 'em, ef I be good, sometimes : 
Knows 'bout Giunts, an' Griffuns, an' Elves, 

An' the Squidgicum-Squees 'at swallers therselvesi 

An', wite by the pump in our pasture-lot, 

He showed me the hole 'at the Wungs is got, 

'At lives 'way deep in the ground, an' can 

Turn into me, or 'Lizabuth Ann ! 

Ain't he a funny old Raggedy Man? 

Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! 

James Whitcomb Riley was born in Greenfield, Indiana, 
in 1853. His father was a Quaker by faith, and one of 
the most eminent lawyers of his city. Mr. Riley was very 
anxious to have his son study law, but the poet tells us : 
''Whenever I picked up Blackstone or Greenleaf my 
wits went to wool-gathering, and my father was soon 
convinced that his hopes of my achieving greatness at 
the bar were doomed to disappointment." Referring to 
his education the poet further says : "I never had much 



JAMES WHITCOMB EILEY 



167 



schooling, and what I did get I beheve did me little 
good. I never could master mathematics, and history 
was a dull and juiceless thing to me; but I always was 
fond of reading in a random way and took naturally to 
the theatrical. I cannot remember when I was not a 
declaimer, and I began to rhyme almost as soon as I 
' could talk." 

Riley's first occupation was sign painting for a patent 
medicine man, with whom he traveled one year. Later 
he organized the Graphic Company, a band of sign paint- 
ers, who were capital musicians as well. They toured 
the country painting signs and giving musical entertain- 
ments. Riley says: "We used to drum up trade with 
our music. We made plenty of money, had lots of fun, 
and did no harm to ourselves or anyone else." During 
this period of sign painting the poet was writing verse 
and trying unsuccessfully to find a publisher. After the 
Graphic Company disbanded he secured a position on a 
weekly paper at Anderson. About this time Mr. Riley 
sent some verses to Longfellow, who congratulated him 
warmly. Longfellow's warm friend, Mr. Lowell, also 
sent cheering words to the Hoosier poet. The public at 
once recognized a striking resemblance between Lowell's 
New England dialect poems and Riley's Hoosier rhymes. 
This assured his success, and Mr. Riley had no further 
need to hunt for publishers. His books sell by the thou- 
sand, and his popularity equals, if it does not excel, that 
of the favorite Longfellow. 

The famous poet has rather peculiar methods of writ- 
ing. He invites the Muse while going about the streets, 
either riding or walking, and as soon as the poems are 
thought out he immediately stops and transfers them to 



168 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATUEB 



paper. He is one of the rhany writers who can write 
only when the spirit moves him. He says: "It is al- 
most impossible for me to do good work on order. If I 
have agreed to complete a poem at a certain time I can- 
not do it at all. I do my best work without considering 
the future at all." 

Riley's first volume of poems, containing The Ole 
Swimmin' Hole and 'Leven More Poems, was issued in 
1883. These poems had all appeared in the Indianapolis 
Journal over the signature of Benjamin F. Johnson, who 
purported to be a simple-hearted old Boone County 
farmer. This quaint, friendly character had an individ- 
uaHty as taking as the famous Diedrich Knickerbocker. 
Mr. Riley's first book has been followed by many others, 
among which are Neighborly Poems, Sketches in Prose, 
Pipes 0' Pan, Rhymes of Childhood, Flying Islands of 
the Night, Green Fields and Running Brooks, and Arma- 
zindy. This latter volume contains some of his best dia- 
lect and serious verses, among which is his famous poem, 
Leonainie. This poem was written in imitation of Poe's 
style and published as one of his lost poems. It was so 
eminently successful as to deceive even Poe's biographers. 
A selection of Riley's poems, entitled Old Fashioned 
Roses, was published in England in 1892. 

His pieces in dialect have winning pecuHarities all 
their own, but many of his verses in classical English, 
such as The South Wind and the Su-n and Afterwhiles, 
show that his poetry is not dependent upon dialect for 
its highest eifects. Mr. Riley says he prefers writing the 
recognized poetic form to dialect, but he further adds : 
'Dialectic verse is natural and gains added charm from 
its very commonplaceness, I follow nature as closely as 



JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY 



169 



I can and try to make my people think and speak as they 
do in real life, and such success as I have achieved is due 
to this." 

The genial poet has never married. He makes his 
home with a sister in Indianapolis, Indiana, though he is 
seldom to be found there excepting in his ''loafing days," 
as he calls them. Of this home he writes — 

Such a dear little street, it is nestled away 

From the noise of the city and the heat of the day. 

In cool, shady coverts of whispering trees. 

With their leaves lifted up to shake hands with the breeze, 

Which, in all its wide wanderings, never may meet 

With a resting place fairer than Lockerlie street. 

For the past several years Mr. Riley has spent about 
eight months out of every twelve on the lecture plat- 
form, and has given large audiences in all the leading 
cities of America the rare treat of listening to his inimit- 
able recitation of his poems. He is more widely known 
personally than any other American poet. Mr. Riley is 
almost as great a favorite with the children as the re- 
nowned child-lover, Eugene Field, and the poet is seen 
at his best when surrounded by a delighted audience of 
little people. 

MEMOEY GEMS FROM RILEY. 
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear, 

In the midnight black, or the midday blue ; 
The robin pipes when the sun is here 

And the cricket chirps the whole night through. 

Does the meadow lark complain as he swims high and 
dry 

Through the waves of the wind and the blue of the sky? 



170 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



Does the quail sit up and whistle in a disappointed way, 
Or hang his head in silence and sorrow all the day ? 
Is the chipmunk's health a-failing ? Does he walk or does 
he run ? 

Don't the buzzards float around up there, just as they've 

always done? • 
Is there anything the matter with the rooster's lungs or 

voice ? 

Ought a man to be complaining when dumb animals re- 
joice? 

But the air's so appetizin' and the landscape through the 
haze 

Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days 
Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock — 
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the 
shock. 

When the green gits back in the trees, and bees 

Is a-buzzin' round agin 
In that kind of a ''Lazy-go-as-you-please" 

Old gait they hum round in ; 
When the ground's all bald where the hayrack stood 

And the crick's riz, and the breeze 
Coaxes the bloom in the old dogwood, 

And the green gits back in the trees — 
I like, I say, in such scenes as these 

The time when the green gits back in the trees. 

When my dreams come true I shall bide among the 
sheaves 

Of happy, harvest meadows; and the grasses and the 
leaves 



JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY 



171 



Shall lift and lean between me and the splendor of the 
sun, 

Till the noon swoons into twilight, and the gleaners' 
work is done. 

But, oh ! They's a chord in the music 

That's missed when her voice is away ! 
Though I listen from midnight 'tel morning. 

And dawn, 'tel the dusk of day ; 
And I grope through the dark, lookin' up'ards 

And on through the heavenly dome, 
With my longin' soul singin' and sobbin' 

The words, ''Do they miss me at home?" 

(Find the above quotations in Riley's poems.) 

A PARTIAL LIST OF RILEY^S POEMS FOR REFERENCE. 

The Ole Swimmin' Hole. Little Orphant Annie. 

That Old Sweetheart of Mine. The Raggedy Man. 

When the Frost is on the Punkin. Airly Days. 

Thoughts on the Late War. Leonainie. 

The South Wind and the Sun. A Boy's Mother. 

Decoration Day on the Place. Our Hired Girl. 

Like His Mother Used to Make. Griggsby's Station. 

When My Dreams Come True. Romancin'. 
When the Green Gits Back in the Trees. 

WHAT LITTLE SAUL GOT, CHEISTMAS. 

Us parents mostly thinks our own's 

The smartest children out! 
But Widder Shelton's little Saul 

Beats all I know about ! 



172 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



He's weakly like — in p'int o' health, 

But strong in word and deed, 
And heart and head, and snap and spunk, 

And alius in the lead ! 

Come honest by it, fer his Pa — 

Afore he passed away — 
He was a leader — (Lord, I'd like 

To hear him preach today!) 
He led his flock ; he led in prayer 

Fer spread o' Peace — and when 
Nothin' but War could spread it he 

Was first to lead us then ! 

So little Saul has grit to take 

Things jes' as they occur; 
And Sister Shelton's proud & him 

And he is proud o' her ! 
And when she ''got up" — jes' fer him 

And little playmates all — 
A Christmas tree — they ever'one 

Was there but little Saul. 

Pore little chap was sick in bed , 

Next room ; and Doc was there, 
And said the children might file past. 

But go right back to where 
The tree was, in the settin' room. 

And Saul jes' laid and smiled — 
Nor couldn't nod, nor wave his hand, 

Lt hurt so — Bless the child ! 

And so they left him there with Doc — 
And warm tears of his Ma's. h= * * 



JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY 



173 



Then — sndclen-like — high over all 

Their laughter and applause — 
They heerd : 'T don't care what you git 

On your old Chris-mus tree, 
'Cause I'm got somepin' you all haint — 

I'm got the pleurisy !" 

1. Read the poem carefully. 
II. Describe Little Saul. 
III. What is the pleurisy? 

ROMANCIN'. 

r b'en a-kindo "musin'," as the feller says, and I'm 
About o' the conclusion that they hain't no better time, 
When you come to cipher on it, than the times we ust to 
know ^ 

When we swore our first "dog-gone-it" sort o' solum- 
like and low! 

You git my idy, do you? — Little t^ds, you understand — 
Jest a-wishin' thue and thue that you on'y wuz a man. 
Yit here I am, this minit, even sixty, to a day. 
And fergittin' all that's in it, wishin' jest the other way! 

I hain't no hand to lectur' on the times, er c^imonstrate 
Whare the trouble is, er hector and domineer with Fate — 
But when I git so flurried, and so pestered-like and blue, 
And so rail owdacious worried, let me tell you what I 
do !— 

I jest gee-haw the bosses, and onhook the swingle-tree, 
Whare the hazel-bushes tosses down theyr shadders over 
me ; 



174 STUDIES IN AMEEICAJN LITEBATURE 



And I draw my plug o' navy, and I climb the fence, and 
set 

Jest a-thinkin' here, I gravy ! tel my eyes is wringin'-wet ! 

Tho' I still kin see the trouble o' the presunt, I kin see — 
Kindo' like my sight wuz double — all the things that ust 
to be ; 

And the flutter o' the robin and the teeter o' the wren 
Sets the wilier-branches bobbin' "howdy-do" thum Now 
to Then ! 

The deadin' and the thicket's jest a-bilin' full of June, 
From the rattle o' the cricket, to the yallar-hammer's 
tune ; 

And the catbird in the bottom, and the sapsuck on the 
snag, 

Seems ef they can't — od-rot 'em! — jest do nothin' else 
but brag ! 

They's music in the twitter of the bluebird and the jay, 
And that sassy little critter jest 2i-peckin' all the day; 
They's music in the "flicker," and they's music in the 
thrush, 

And they's music in the snicker o' the chipmunk in the 
brush ! 

They's music all around me ! — and I go back, in a dream 
Sweeter yit than ever found me fast asleep — and in the 
stream 

That ust to split the medder whare the dandylions 
growed, 

I stand knee-deep, and redder than the sunset down the 
road. 



JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY 



175 



Then's when I' b'en a-fishin' ! — And they's other fellers, 
too, 

With theyr hick'ry-poles a-swishin' out behind 'em; and 
a few 

Little ''shiners" on our stringers, with their tails tip- 
toein' bloom, 

As we dance 'em in our fingers all the happy jurney 
home. 

I kin see us, true to Natur', thum the time we started 
out, 

With a biscuit and a 'tater in our little "roundabout" ! — 
I kin see our lines a-tanglin,' and our elbows in a jam, 
And our naked legs a-danglin' thum the apern o' the 
dam. 

I kin see the honeysuckle climbin' up around the mill, 
And kin hear the worter chuckle, and the wheel a-growlin' 
still ; 

And thum the bank below it I kin steal the old canoe. 
And jest git in and row it like the miller ust to do. 

W'y I git my fancy focused on the past so mortal plane 
I kin even smell the locus'-blossoms bloomin' in the lane ; 
And I hear the cow-bells clinkin' sweeter tunes 'n 

"Money-muskJ' 
Fer the lightnin' bugs a-blinkin' and a-dancin' in the 

dusk. 

And when I've kep' on "musin'," as the feller says, tel 
I'm 

Firm-fixed in the conclusion that they hain't no better 
time, 



176 STUDIES IN AMEBIC AN LITEEATURE 



When you come to cipher on it, than the old times — I de- 
clare 

I kin wake and say "dog-gone-it T jest as soft as any 
prayer ! 

1. Read and enjoy the poem. 
11. Select pleasing expressions. 
III. Write some descriptions which the poem sug- 
gests, such as the boys fishing beside the stream, etc. 

SUGGESTED POEMS FOR FURTHER READING. 

The Ole Swimmin' Hole. Armazindy. 

That Old Sweetheart of Griggsby's Station. 

Mine. Airly Days. 

When the Frost is on the Afterwhiles. 

Punkin. Pipes o' Pan at Zekesbury. 

QUESTIONS ON RILEY. 

1. Write a short sketch on Riley's life. 

2. Name five of his poems. 

3. By what sobriquet is Riley known? Why is he 
considered to be particularly the country people's poet? 

4. Quote four memory gems. 

5. In which poems are the following verses found? 

An' little Orphant Annie says, when the blaze is blue. 
An' the lampwick sputters, an' the wind goes woo-00 ! 
An' you hear the crickets quit, an' the moon is gray, 
An' the lightnin'-bugs in dew is all squenched away — 
You better mind yer parents, an' yer teachers fond and 
dear. 

An' churish them 'at loves you, an' dry the orphant's tear, 



JOAQUIN MILLER 



177 



An' he'p the pore an' needy ones 'at clusters all about, 
Er the gobble-uns'U git you 

Ef you 

Don't 

Watch 

Out!" 

These here cy-clones a-foolin' round — 

And back'ard crops! — and wind and rain!— 
And yit the corn that's wallered down 

May elbow up again ! — 
They hain't no sense, as I can see, 

Fer mortuls, sich as us, to be 
A-faultin' Natchur's wise intents, 

And lockin' horns with Providence ! 



JOAQUIN MILLER, 
1841. 

''The Poet of the Sierras/' 

JOAQUIN Miller has earned his fame by his gorgeotiJi 
pictures of the gigantic scenery of the Westtrn 
mountains. Hear what he says of Mount Shasta : 

I knew thee in my glorious youth, 
. I loved thy vast face, white as truth, 
I stood where thunderbolts were wont 
To smite thy Titan-fashioned front, 
And heard rent mountains rock and roll. 

I saw thy lightning's gleaming rod 
Eeach forth and write on heaven's scroll 

The awful autograph of God! 

His poems have incurred the censure of literary critics 
because of their faulty style ; but the tales they tell are 



17S 



STTTDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



glowing and passionate, true to the wild adventurous 
life which they describe, and it is to this truth and vivid 
naturalness that Miller owes his success. 

The palm-trees lorded the copse like kings, • ' 
Their tall tops tossing the indolent clouds 
That folded the isle in the dawn, like shrouds, 

Then fled from the sun like to living things. 

The cockatoo swung in the vines below, 
And muttering hung on a golden thread. 

Or moved on the moss'd bough to and fro, 
In plumes of gold and array 'd in red. 

The lake lay hidden away from the light, 
As asleep in the isle from the tropical noon. 
And narrow and bent like a new-born moon. 

And fair as a moon in the noon of the night. 

'Twas shadowed by forests, and fringed by ferns, 
And fretted anon by the fishes that leapt 
At indolent flies that slept or kept 

Their drowsy tones on the tide by turns. 

— From Isles of the Amazon. 

Cincinnatus Hiner Miller was born in the Wabash dis- 
trict, Indiana, in 1841. When he was ten or twelve years 
of age his father moved the family to the Willamette 
Valley, in Oregon. "Jo^Q^^i'^'" he was later to be 
known, helped his father to build the log-cabin, and for 
three years worked with him upon the farm, and sought 
such adventures as the wilds in his vicinity afforded. 
This was too tame, however, for the boy's uncurbed 
spirit and he left his father's house to try his fortune as 
a gold miner, 

"A more daring attempt was seldom if ever undertaken 
by a fifteen-year-old youth," says a writer in a short 



JOAQUIN MILLER 



179 



sketch of his Hfe. "It was during the most desperate 
period of Western history, just after the report of the 
discovery of gold had caused such a rush to the Pacific 
slope. A miscellaneous and turbulent population swarmed 
over the country; and 'armed to the teeth' prospected 
upon streams and mountains. The lawless, reckless lives 
of these gold-hunters — millionaires today and beggars 
tomorrow — deeming it a virtue rather than a crime to 
have taken life in a brawl — was, at once, novel, pic- 
turesque, and dramatic Such conditions furnished great 
possibilities for a poet or a novelist. It was an era as 
replete with a reality of thrilling excitement as that fur- 
nished by the history and mythology of ancient Greece 
to the earlier Greek poets." 

Young Miller threw himself into the whirlpool, and 
found the reckless excitement and daring adventure 
which he sought. Whenever a place grew too much 
domesticated, or too familiar to suit his fancy, he left 
it and sought more desperate wilds farther remote from 
civilization. For five years he lived with the Modoc 
Indians, who admired him so much that they made him 
a great chief. He became a filibuster and went into 
Nicaragua. He joined Spanish herdsmen and went into 
the wilds of Mexico. It was here he earned the 
sobriquet "Jo^^^i^" fron^ a Mexican bandit, Joaquin 
Murietta, whom he defended. In i860 the prodigal re- 
turned to the cabin of his father. 'Tn his right arm he 
carried a bullet, in his right thigh another, and on many 
parts of his body were scars left by Indian arrows." 
Soon after his return home he began the study of law, 
and, in a few months' time, v/as admitted to the bar and 
began practicing in Lane County, Oregon. It was not 



180 



STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITERATURE 



long, however, until the spirit of adventure again took 
possession of him ; he contracted the ''gold fever," and 
hurried to the mines of Idaho. But the yellow metal 
shunned his "pan," and he finally gave up mining and 
turned express messenger for the mining district. This, 
too, was abandoned ; he returned to Oregon and started 
a newspaper, The Democratic Register, at Eugene City. 

Where Joaquin Miller got his education is a mystery ; 
but through the years of wandering, even in boyhood, he 
was a rhymester and his verses now began to come fast 
in the columns of his paper. Soon after the founding 
of the Register Mr. Miller became acquainted with a 
poetical contributor, Miss Minnie Myrtle, and, with his 
usual "suddenness," married her after an acquaintance 
of three days. He abandoned newspaper life shortly 
after his marriage and again resumed law practice, being 
twenty-five years of age. He wrote a considerable 
amount of poetry and prose during the four years in 
whi-ch he held the office. 

Then a new idea came to him ; he abandoned every- 
thing and sailed for London to seek a publisher. In 
this he was unsuccessful, and so brought out a small 
volume at his own expense. The poems were faulty in 
style ; but they were graphic pictures of the rugged peaks 
and ranges and of the adventurous life in Western Amer- 
ica; as such they were a revelation, and eagerly read by 
the people. They won for him the friendship of English 
writers and publishers, and, in 1871, his Songs of the 
Sierras was issued. This was well received, and Joaquin 
Miller returned to his native soil, visiting California for 
the purpose of collecting material for another work, 
Sunland Songs, which was issued in London two years 



/ 



JOAQUIN MILLER 181 

later. Subsequently Songs of the Desert, Songs of Italy, 
.and Songs of the Mexican Seas were issued. 

Joaquin Miller is also the author of several prose 
works and dramas. Among the former may be men- 
tioned : — With Walker in Nicaragua, The Danites in the 
Sierras, Shadows of Shasta, and Gold-Seekers of the 
Sierras. Of the plays, The Danites is probably the best 
known. Among Mr. Miller's shorter poems are Colum- 
bus, Kit Carson's Ride, Mount Shasta, The People's 
Song of Peace, and Thoughts of My Western Home. In 
the latter poem, which was written in Athens, the poet 
tells something of his life's aim, and the reward which 
he desires — a reward which he now enjoys from his 
home on the bluffs overlooking San Francisco Bay and 
the Golden Gate. 

Have I not turned to thee and them, 

O sun-land of the palm and pine, 

And sung thy scenes, surpassing skies, 

Till Europe lifted up her face 

And marveled at thy matchless grace, 

With eager and inquiring eyes? 

Be my reward some little place 

To pitch my tent, some tree and vine 

Where I may sit above the sea. 

And drink the sun as drinking wine, 

And dream, or sing some songs of thee; 

Or days to climb to Shasta's dome 

Again, and be with gods at home. 

A TEIBUTE TO COLUMBUS. 
Behind him lay the great Azores, ^ 

Behind the gates of Hercules ; 
Before him not the ghost of shores, 

Before him only shoreless seas. 



182 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



The good mate said, ''Now must we pray? 

For lo ! the very stars are gone. 
Brave Adm'ral, speak ; what shall I say ?" 

"Why say, Sail on ! sail on ! and on !" 

**My men grew mutinous day by day ; 

My men grew ghastly, wan, and weak." 
The stout mate thought of home ; a spray 

Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek. 
"What shall I say. Brave Adm'ral, say, 

If we sight naught but seas at dawn?" 
"Why, you shall say at break of day. 

Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!" 

They sailed and sailed, as winds might blow, 

Until at last the blanched mate said, 
"Why, now not even God would know 

Should I and all my men fall dead. 
These very winds forget their way, 

For God from these dead seas is gone. 
Now speak, brave Adm'ral, speak and say — " 

He said, "Sail on! sail on! and on!" 

They sailed. They sailed. Then spoke the mate, 

"This mad sea shows its teeth to-night. 
He curls his lips ; he Hes in wait, 

With lifted teeth as if to bite. 
Brave Adm'ral, say but one good word; 

What shall we do when hope is gone?" 
The words leapt forward like a sword, 

"Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!" 

Then pale and worn, he kept his deck. 

And peered through darkness. Ah, that night 



JOAQUIN MILLER 



183 



Of all dark nights ! And then a speck — 
A light ! A light ! A light ! A light ! 

It grew, a starlit flag unfurled, 

It grew to be Time's burst of dawn. 

He gained a world ; he gave that world 
Its grandest lesson — *'On and on !" 

DIRECTIONS FOR STUDY. . 

I. Select figures of speech. Explain — "It grew, a 
starlight flag unfurled ; it grew to be Time's burst 
of dawn." 
II. Amplify the poem. 
III. Divide the poem into scenes. 

CRITICISMS. 

''His volumes show an impetuous imagination, a bold 
originality and windy freshness, often a tropical richness 
of color, and an expression sometimes strongly elTective 
in picturing the wild beauty of mountain and desert, but 
perversely disobedient to the fundamental rules of 
rhetoric. Indeed his limitations are due, not so much 
to the lack of creative power, as to an untutored taste 
and a disposition to be satisfied with bizarre and sensa- 
tional effects. He is a child of nature, but of nature 
only in her vast and magnificent rudeness, as known to 
him in his early pioneer experience." — Abernethy. 

QUESTIONS OF JOAQUIN MILLER. 

1. Write a short sketch of Joaquin Miller's life. 

2. How did he come by the name Joaquin ? By what 
oth^r sobriquet is he known? 



184 STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITEEATURE 



3. For what is Miller best known? Name some of 
his best works. 

4. Why will his poems live? 

EUGENE FIELD 
1850— 1895. 
. ''The Children's Poetr 

THE POEMS of Eugene Field, the children's poet, are 
known throughout the world for their simplicity, 
warmth and genuineness. These qualities were not the 
result, as has been erroneously supposed, of any great 
love of children on his part; he could not be called a 
real lover of children, though he understood child- 
nature. His love may be said to have been theo- 
retical rather than actual. It was on the experiences of 
his own childhood that he largely drew for the por- 
trayal of the emotions of children, and as has been said 
he loved them in the abstract and found inspiration 
in the abstraction. His intellect and tastes were essen- 
tially virile, and the companionship he preferred was that 
of the intellectual adult friend. 

Eugene Field was born in St. Louis, September 2, 
1850. His parents were from Vermont; his father was 
a lawyer, and his mother a gentlewoman of beautiful 
character. Mrs, Field died when Eugene was only six 
years old, but he ever cherished a most beautiful, tender 
memory of her. He lived with Miss French, a maiden 
cousin of his father's, at Amherst, Massachusetts, until 
he was nineteen years of age. Of this time the poet says, 
"These were the sweetest and finest days of my life. I 
love old Amherst." 




EUGENE FIELD. 



EUGENE FIELD 



185 



Field was a lively boy. When he was nine years of 
age, he and his brothers were invited to visit their grand- 
mother, who lived on the old homestead at Fayetteville, 
Vermont. The poet says: "We, my brothers and I, 
stayed there seven months, and the old lady got all the 
grandson she wanted. She didn't want the visit re- 
peated." This grandmother was a very strict New 
England Congregationalist. She used to encourage 
Eugene to write little sermons, paying him ten cents for 
each one. Field kept the first one of these to the end of 
his life. It was composed of several sheets of note paper, 
beautifully bound in cloth. 

He has told us, too, of his first Christmas tree, which 
had been a delightful experience when he was thirteen, 
but to which his stern grandmother objected as "popery." 
He tells us that he and his brother afterward "planted 
the tree near the corner of Sunset avenue and Amity 
street, and it's there now, a magnificent tree. Some time 
when Vm East Em going to go up there with my brother 
and put a tablet on it — Pause^ busy traveler, and -give a 
thought to the happy days of two western boys who lived 
in old New England, and make resolve to render the boy- 
hood near you happier and brighter." 

Eugene Field was not a college graduate. At sixteen, 
just as he was ready to enter Williams College, he was 
forced to give up his studies on account of failing health. 
Two years later, his father died and he was sent to live 
with his guardian, Professor Burgess, of Knox College, 
Galesburg, Illinois. Shortly afterward he enrolled as a 
student in the Missouri State University, where he re- 
mained until he was of age, when he came into possession 
of $60,000 and with a friend immediately started for 



18(5 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITEEAtURE 

Europe. He returned home bankrupt, and at once 
entered into the realms of journaUsm. 

Eugene Field's first poem, Christmas Treasures, was 
written to fill an unoccupied space in the St. Louis 
Journal. It is a beautiful little poem : 

A little sock, a little toy, 

A little lock of golden hair, 

The Christmas music in the air, 
A watching for my baby boy. 

But if again that angel train 

And golden head come back to me, 
To bear me to Eternity, 

My watching will not be in vain. 

From 1873 to 1883, Eugene Field was connected with 
various newspapers in Missouri and Colorado. While 
engaged with the Denver Tribune, a series of comic and 
semi-humorous articles published in his paper brought 
him into favorable notice. In 1883 he was given charge 
of a department in the Chicago Record. In this capacity 
he made a reputation as a humorist and satirist by his 
widely read column, Flats and Sharps. He was a hard 
worker, contributing daily from one to three columns tO' 
the Chicago News, besides writing more or less for the 
Syndicate Press and various periodicals. In addition 
to this, he was frequently on the lecture platform giving 
selections from his writings. Field was a good literary 
critic, but he was too liberal and kind hearted to chastise 
a brother writer who did not come up to the highest 
literary mark. He had a great propensity for practical 
jokes, as his college and later day pranks testify. Some- 
times he would amuse himself by writing verses, sign a 



EUGENE FIELD 



187 



friend's name, and after publication, criticise them 
unmercifully. 

The story is told that on a certain date Mr. Field 
invited a number of his literary friends to a banquet. 
When the guests were seated at the table they enjoyed 
a truly Barmacide feast, drinking to the many toasts 
from goblets filled from empty wine bottles, bearing 
names that would arouse hopes in a connoisseur. Later 
they were served with griddle cakes, pork and beans, 
and water. 

Eugene Field is the author of many fine verses. Little 
Boy Blue and Sometime There Ben a Lyttle Boy are 
fine samples of simple pathos : 

The little toy dog is covered with dust, 

But sturdy and staunch he stands : 
And the little toy soldier is red with rust 

And his musket molds in his hands. 
Time was when the little toy dog was new 

And the soldier was passing fair, 
And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue 
Kissed them and put them there. 

Wynken, Blynken and Nod and the Ride to Bumpville 
reveal the true poetic instinct : 

Wynken and Blynken are too little eyes, 

And Nod is a little head; 
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies 

Is a wee one's trundle-bed. 
So shut your eyes while mother sings 

Of wonderful sights that be, 
And you shall see the beautiful things 
As you rock in the misty sea, 

Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three, 
Wynken, 
Blynken, 
And Nod. 



188 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITEEATUEE 



Seein' Things at Night and Jest 'Fore Christmas show 
the author's real sympathy with the heart of the boy : 

I ain't afraid uv snakes, or toads, or bugs, or worms, or mice, 
An' things 'at girls are skeered uv I think are awful nice! 
I'm pretty brave, I guess; an' yet I hate to go to bed. 
For when I'm tucked up warm an' snug an' when my prayers are 
said. 

Mother tells me * * Happy dreams ! ' ' and takes away the light. 
An ' leaves me lyin ' all alone an ' seein ' things at night ! 
Sometimes they're all a-standin' in the middle uv the floor; 
Sometimes they're sittin' down, sometimes they're walkin' 
round 

So softly an' so creepylike they never make a sound! 

Sometimes they're black as ink, an' other times they're white — * 

But the color ain't no difference when you see things at night! 

His first pubHshed volume was The Denver Tribune 
Primer, which appeared in 1882. This was followed by 
the Model Primer, Little Book of Western Verse, With 
Trumpet and Drum, Love Songs of Childhood, Echoes 
of a Sabine Farm. Many of Mr. Field's best poems 
have been set to music. 

The poet was a home man, loving his family and 
home associations. His wife often accompanied him on 
his lecture tours. On their last journey together they 
visited the home of Mrs. Field's girlhood. While she 
was occupied with her old associates her husband, in- 
stead of joining them as they expected, hired a carriage 
and visited all the scenes sacred to the memory of their 
courting days. Mr. and Mrs. Field were the parents 
of five children. His home during the last years of his 
life was at the Sabine Farm, Buena Park, Chicago. The 
name was given in memory of that classic retreat of the 
Latin poet, Horace, whose odes Eugene and his brother 



EUGENE FIELD 



189 



Roswell had admirably translated under the title, Echoes 
from the Sabine Farm. The principal crop raised by 
Eugene Field on this farm was roses. It was an ideal 
home for an author and a poet. Field tells us that he 
wrote his verses with ease, but that he often revised and 
rewrote his prose before he was satisfied with it. He 
was an intense lover of Nature and his writings abound 
with indications of this love. He believed in country life 
as an educator, and would take his boys every year to a 
farm in Wisconsin that they might experience the happi- 
ness of primitive life. "Sooner or later," he said to a 
friend, *'a man rots if he lives too far away from the 
grass and the trees." 

He wrote with a fine pointed pen, ornamenting his 
manuscripts with all sorts of figures done in gay colored 
ink. At one o'clock he left his work and would some- 
times join the little Fields and some of the neighborhood 
children in a grand romp in the garden, where he would 
invent games for the little ones. Sometimes he was a 
great "big bear" and one of the children was a "rabbit." 
Then they would set off in search of adventure. Of 
course, they always found it ! After the games were 
over Field settled down to his writing again ; he usually 
gave his evenings to reading, and it was not an uncom- 
mon thing for him to take his book to bed with him. 

"The white-winged angels came with singing to the 
lowly home" of the Children's Poet in November, 1895. 
He left this life at the early age of forty-five years. 
There was such weeping and wailing in the gates that 
Chicago awoke to the fact that she had been entertain- 
ing an angel unawares, and prepared to give all honor to 
the last sad rites. Rich and poor alike assembled to 



190 STUDIES 'IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



mourn the deceased singer; tributes and floral offerings 
poured in from all over the country, conspicuous among 
the latter was a large shoe of white carnations with 
the words "Wynken, Blynken, and Nod." 

Mr. Francis Wilson, a friend of Field's, said of him : 
''Like the apostles, he was all things to all men, and 
much to many. He had nothing morose about him, lit- 
tle or nothing that was not of the brightest, sunniest 
character. He declared that the man who neglected to 
laugh was as injudicious as he who denied himself a 
proper amount of fresh air." The following extract 
from one of his songs is typical of the man: — 

Come in, little people, from cot and from hall, 
This heart it hath welcome and room for you all: 
I will sing you its song and warm you with love, 

As your dear little arms with my arm intertwine; 
It will rock you away to the dreamland above. 

Oh! a jolly old heart is this heart of mine — 
And jollier still it is bound to become 
When you blow that big trumpet and beat that big drum. 

QUOTATIONS. 

(Find the following gems in Eugene Field's verse:) 
"Upon a mountain height, far from the sea, 

I found a shell; 
And to my listening ear the lovely thing 
Ever a song of ocean seemed to sing, 

Ever a tale of ocean seemed to tell." 

" 'Tis New Year's eve, and again I watch 

In the old familiar place, 
And I'm thinking again of that old time when 

I looked on a dear one's face. 



EUGENE FIELD 



Never a little one hugs my knee, 

And I hear no gleeful shout — 
I am sitting alone by the old hearth-stone 

Watching the old year out, 
But I welcome the voice in yonder gloom, 

That solemnly calls to me; 
Tick-tock, tick-tock!' — for so the clock 

Tells of a Hfe to be; 
*Tick-tock, tick-tock!' 'tis so the clock 

Tells of eternity." 

"Fair is the castle up on the hill — 

Hushaby, sweet my own ! 
The night is fair and the waves are still, 
And the wind is singing to you and me 
In this lovely home beside the sea — 

Hushaby, sweet my own!" 

"I know it's folly to complain 

Of whatsoe'er the Fates decree; 
Yet were not wishes all in vain, 

I tell you what my wish should be : 
I'd wish to be a boy again, 

Back with the friends I used to know ; 
For I was O ! so happy then — 

But that was very long ago." 

"There is no love Hke the good old love — 

The love that mother gave us. 
We are old, old men, yet we pine again 

For that precious grace — God gave us. 
So we dream and dream of the good old times, 

And our hearts grow tenderer, fonder. 



192 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



As those dear old dreams bring soothing gleams 
Of heaven away off yonder." 

''And yet, unhappy is the man who has no sister Jane — 
For he who has no sister seems to me to live in vain. 
I've never had a sister — maybe that is why today 
I'm wizened and dyspeptic, instead of blithe and gay; 
A boy who's only forty should be full of romp and mirth, 
But I (because I'm sisterless) am the oldest man on 
earth !" 



A PARTIAL LIST OF EUGENE FIELD S POEMS. 



Christmas Treasures. 
Shuffle Shoon and Amber 

Locks. 
Our Two Opinions. 
Wynken, Blynken, and 

Nod. 

Sometime There Been a 
Lyttle Boy. 



Norse Lullaby. 

The Rock-aby Lady. 

Little Boy Blue. 

The Remorseless Cakes. 

Seein' Things. 

Jest 'Fore Christmas. 

At the Door. 



Read as many of the poems mentioned as possible. 
Commit to memory The Rock-aby Lady, Wynken, Blyn- 
ken and Nod, Little Boy Blue, and Seein' Things at 
Night. 

REFERENCES. 

Eugene Field and His Home, pub., E. P. Dutton Co. 
The Eugene Field I Knew, Scribner's Sons. 
McClure's Magazine, August and September, 1893. 
Chicago Record, November, 1895. 



WILL CAELETON 



193 



QUESTIONS ON EUGENE FIELD. 

1. Write a biography of Eugene Field. 

2. Name five of his poems. Which poem do you 
like best? Why? 

3. Why was Field called ''The Child Lover"? What 
other title has been given him? Ans. 'The Poet Lau- 
reate of Childhood." 

4. Quote three memory gems. 

5. Compare Field with Longfellow. With James 
Whitcomb Riley. 

6. Tell something of his methods of writing. 

WILL CARLETON. 
1845. 

WILL Carleton is best known for his ballads 
of domestic life, which have attained a wide pop- 
ularity on both sides of the Atlantic. With few excep- 
tions his poems are portraitures of the humorous side 
of rural life and frontier scenes ; but they are executed 
with a vividness and truth to nature that insures their 
preservation as faithful portraits of social conditions, 
scenes, and provincialisms which the advance of time 
and education is fast relegating to the past. Mr. Carle- 
ton's descriptions are vivid, and as a narrative versifier 
he has never been excelled in depicting Western farm 
life. He has also written prose, which has been col- 
lected and published in book form, but it is his 
poetical works which have endeared him to the public, 
and it is for these that he will be remembered in litera- 
ture. 



194 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITEEATURE 



Mr. Carleton is a "Wolverine/' having been born in 
Hudson, Michigan, October 21, 1845. His father was a 
pioneer settler, formerly from New Hampshire. Young 
Carleton, like many another farm lad, helped on the 
farm during the summer time and attended the district 
school during the short winter term. At the age of six- 
teen he became a teacher in a neighboring country 
school, and for the next four years divided his time be- 
tween teaching, attending school, and working as farm 
hand; during this time also he contributed articles in 
both prose and verse to local papers. In 1865 he entered 
Hillsdale College, Michigan, and graduated four years 
later, having the honor of being class poet. The gradua- 
tion poem. Rifts in the Cloud, was afterwards published 
in Farm Legends. We quote the first and last stanzas : — 

Life is a cloud — e'en take it as you may; 
Illumine it with Pleasure's transient ray; 
Brighten its edges with Virtue; let each fold 
E'en by the touch of God be flecked with gold, 
While angel-wings may kindly hover near, 
And angel-voices murmur words of cheer, 
Still, life's a cloud, forever hanging nigh, 

Forever o'er our winding pathways spread. 
Ready to blacken on some saddened eye. 

And hurl its bolts on some defenseless head. 

Old class of '69 together, still. 

We've journeyed up the rough and toilsome hill; 

Seeking the gems to labor ne'er denied. 

Plucking the fruits that deck the mountain-side. 

Now, in the glory of this summer day. 

We part, and each one goes his different way. 

Let each, with hope to fire his yearning soul. 

Still hurry onward to the shining goal. 

The way at times may dark and weary seem, 



WILL CAELETON 



195 



No ray of sunshine on our path may beam, 
The dark clouds hover o'er us like a pall, 
And gloom and sadness seem to compass all; 
But still, with honest purpose, toil we on; 

And if our steps be upright, straight, and true, 
Far in the east a golden light shall dawn, 

And the bright smile of God come bursting through. 

In his poem, That Day We Graduated, he tells of the 
hour which had at last arrived after four years of wait- 
ing :— 

The hour we wished and dreaded most. 

From which we shrunk, for which we waited; 

That inward fear and outward boast — 
That fine old day we graduated! 

A thousand heads and hearts were there, 

With more or less discernment gifted; 
Our enemies with hopeful stare. 

Our friends with look of kindness lifted. 

We saw gay chaplets, wondering whom 

To crown their brilliant lives were fated; 

Bouquets looked puzzled 'mid their bloom. 
That fragrant day we graduated! 

Other poems which tell of college life and of the prog- 
ress of the *'old class of '69" are Brothers and Friends, 
given at a reunion of his society six years later ; and 
Our March Through the Past, read at an alumni reunion 
in 1885. 

Since 1870 Mr. Carleton has been actively engaged in 
journalistic and literary work and has also lectured fre- 
quently in the West. It was doubtless during his early 
experiences on the farm, and in teaching and ''boarding 
around," that he gathered the incidents which are so 



196 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITEEATUEE 

aptly detailed in his poems. Among the many of these 
that have gained an enduring popularity may be men- 
tioned : The First Settler's Story, a splendid picture of 
pioneer life, portraying the hardships which they endured 
and the depressing homesick longing for Eastern friends 
and privileges ; The Christmas Baby ; A Lightning Rod 
Dispenser ; Makin' an Editor Out en Him; Betsy and I 
Are Out; Hon' Betsy and I Made Up, etc. 

It was his poem, Betsy and I Are Out, that won for 
Mr. Carleton his first recognition in literary circles. The 
poem appeared in the Toledo Blade in 1872. Harper's 
Weekly immediately copied and illustrated it. In 1873 
Harper & Bros, issued a collection of his poems entitled 
Farm Ballads, including the now famous selections, Hozv 
Betsy and I Made Up, Gone With a Handsomer Man, 
Over the Hills to the Poor House, etc. Other popular 
publications are Farm Legends, Farm Festivals, City Bal- 
lads, and Young Folks' Centennial Rhymes. 

In the preface to his first volume of poems, Mr. Carle- 
ton gives us a little insight into his literary methods. He 
says : ''These poems have been written under various 
and, in some cases, difficult conditions : in the open air, 
with team afield ; in the student's den, with ghosts of 
unfinished lessons hovering gloomily about ; amid the 
rush and roar of railroad travel, which trains of thought 
are not prone to follow ; and in the editor's sanctum, 
where the dainty feet of the muses do not often deign to 
tread." 

MEMORY GEMS FROM CARLETON. 

"We thank Thee, O Father, for song and for feast, 
The harvest that glowed and the wealth that increased — 



WILL CAELETON 



197 



For, never a blessing encompassed earth's child, 

But Thou, in Thy mercy, looked downward and smiled. 

We thank Thee, O Father of All, for the power 
Of aiding each other in life's darkest hour ; 
The generous heart and the bountiful hand. 
And all the soul help that sad souls understand." 

"And show 'em, that though this Hfe's a start 

For the better world, no doubt, 
Yet earth an' heaven ain't so far apart 

As many good folks make out!" 

— Three Links of a Life. 

"Good folks ever will have their way — 
Good folks ever for it msut pay. 
But we, who are here and everywhere. 
The burden of their faults must bear. 

— The Doctor's Story. 

"Lay thee aside thy grief, darling! — lay thee aside thy 
grief ! 

And Happiness will cheer thee beyond all thy belief! 
As oft as winter comes summer, as sure as night comes 
day, 

And as swift as sorrow cometh, so swift it goeth away ! 
E'en in your desolation you are not quite unblest: 
Not all who choose may count their woes upon a mother's 
breast." — Three Links of a Life. 

"Would I might utter all my heart can feel ! 

But there are thoughts weak words will not reveal ; 

The rarest fruitage is the last to fall ; 

The strongest language hath no words at all." 

— Brothers and Friends. 



198 



STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITEEATUEE 



A PARTIAL LIST OF CARLETON S POEMS FOR REFERENCE. 



The Christmas Baby. 
Three Links of a Life. 
Betsy and I Are Out. 
How Betsy and I Made Up. 
Makin' an Editor Outen 
Him. 

A Lightning Rod Dispen- 
ser. 

Gone With a Handsomer 
Man. 

The Burning of Chicago. 
Over the Hills to the Poor 
House. 

Hear the Drums March By. 



Out of the Old House, 

Nancy. 
Three Lovers. 
The Doctor's Story. 
Brothers and Friends. 
Rob, the Pauper. 
The School Master's 

Guests. 
Cover Them Over. 
The Fireman's Story. 
The Sanctum King. 
Gone Before. 
The Little Sleeper. 
'Tis Snowing. 



BETSY AND I AEE OUT. 

Draw up the papers, lawyer, and make 'em good and 
stout, ^ 

For things at home are cross-ways, and Betsy and I are 
out, — 

We who have worked together so long as man and wife 
Must pull in single harness the rest of our nat'ral life. 

''What is the matter?" says you. I swan, it's hard to 
tell ! 2 
Most of the years behind us we've passed by very well, 
I have no other woman — she has no other man ; 
Only we've lived together as long as ever we can. 

So I have talked with Betsy, and Betsy has talked with 
me; ® 



WILL CAELETON 



199 



And we've agreed together that we can never agree ; 
Not that we've catched each other in any terrible crime ; 
We've been a gatherin' this for years, a little at a time. 

There was a stock of temper we both had for a start, ^ 
Although we ne'er suspected 'twould take us two apart ; 
I had my various failings, bred in flesh and bone, 
And Betsy, like all good women, had a temper of her own. 

The first thing, I remember, whereon we disagreed, ^ 
Was somethin' concerning heaven — a difference in our 
creed ; 

We arg'ed the thing at breakfast — we arg'ed the thing 
at tea — 

And the more we arg'ed the question, the more we 
couldn't agree. 

And the next thing that I remember was when we lost a 
cow ; ^ 

She had kicked the bucket, for certain — the question was 
only. How? 

I held my opinion, and Betsy another had ; 

And when we were done a-talkin', we both of us was 
mad. 

And the next that I remember, it started in a joke ; ^ 
But for full a week it lasted and neither of us spoke. 
And the next was when I fretted because she broke a 
bowl ; 

And she said I was mean and stingy, and hadn't any soul. 

And so the thing kept workin', and all the self-same 
way ; * 
Always somethin' to arg'e and something sharp to say, — 



200 STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITEEATURE 

And down on us came the neighbors, a couple o' dozen 
strong, 

And lent their kindest sarvice to help the thing along. 

And there have been days together — and many a weary 

week — ^ 
When both of us were cross and spunky, and both too 

proud to speak ; 
And I have been thinkin' and thinkin', the whole of the 

summer and fall, 
If I can't live kind with a woman, why, then I won't 

at all. 

And so I've talked with Betsy, and Betsy has talked with 
me; 

And we have agreed together that we can never agree ; 
And what is hers shall be hers, and what is mine shall be 
mine ; 

And I'll put it in the agreement and take it to her to sign. 

Write on the paper, lawyer — the very first paragraph — 
Of all the farm and live stock, she shall have her half ; 
For she has helped to earn it through many a weary day, 
And it's nothin' more than justice that Betsy has her pay. 

Give her the house and homestead ; a man can thrive and 
roam, 

But women are wretched critters unless they have a 
home, 

And I've always determined, and never failed to say, 
That Betsy never should want a home if I was taken 
away. 



WILL CAELETON 



201 



There's a little hard money besides, that's drawin' 
tol'rable pay, 

A couple of hundred dollars laid by for a rainy day, — 
Safe in the hands of good men, and easy to get at; 
Put in another clause there, and give her all of that. 

I see that you are smilin', sir, at my givin' her so 
much ; ^* 

Yes, divorce is cheap, sir, but I take no stock in such ; 

True and fair I married her, when she was blithe and 
young, 

And Betsy was always good to me exceptin' with her 
tongue. 

When I was young as you, sir, and not so smart, per- 
haps, 

For me she mittened a lawyer, and several other chaps ; 
And all of 'em was flustered, and fairly taken down, 
And for a time I was counted the luckiest man in town. 

Once when I had a fever — I won't forget it soon — 
I was hot as a basted turkey and crazy as a loon — 
Never an hour went by me when she was out of sight; 
She nursed me true and tender, and stuck to me day and 
night. 

And if ever a house was tidy, and ever a kitchen 
clean, 

Her house and kitchen was tidy as any I ever seen, 
And I don't complain of Betsy or any of her acts, 
Exceptin' when we've quarreled, and told each other 
facts. 



202 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



So draw up the paper, lawyer, and I'll go home to- 
night, ' 1^ 

And read the agreement to her, and see if it's all right ; 

And then in the morning I'll sell to a tradin' man I 
know — 

And kiss the child that was left us, and out in the world 
I'll go. 

And one thing put in the paper, that first to me didn't 
occur ; 

That when I am dead at last she will bring me back to 
her. 

And lay me under the maple we planted years ago. 
When she and I was happy, before we quarreled so. 

And when she dies, I wish that she would be laid by 
me; 

And lyin' together in silence, perhaps we'll then agree ; 
And if ever we meet in heaven, I wouldn't think it queer 
If we loved each other the better because we've quar- 
reled here. 

I. AmpHfy the poem. 

II. Write "How Betsy and I Made Up." If possible, 

do so before reading the poem of this title. Then 
compare with Carleton's version. 

SUGGESTED POEMS FOR FURTHER READING AND STUDY. 



The Three Lovers. 
A Lightning Rod Dispen- 
ser. 

Three Links of a Life. 
The Christmas Baby. 



Over the Hills to the Poor 
House. 

Gone With a Handsomer 
Man. 



WILL CABLETON 



203 



QUESTIONS ON CARLETON. 

1. Write ten sentences descriptive of Carleton's life. 

2. Name some poems written in memory of his col- 
lege life. 

3. Give two memory gems. 

4. Name five of his poems, not before mentioned. 

5. Name some of his published volumes. 

6. What qualities make his poems popular? 



i 



''Novels are sweets. All people with healthy literary 
appetites love them." — Thackeray. 



CHAPTER III. 

OUR EARLIEST NOVELISTS. 

A story should, to please, at least seem true, 
Be apropos, well told, concise, and new ; 
And whenso'er it deviates from these rules, 
The wise will sleep, and leave applause to fools." 

— StillingHeet. 



James Fenimore Cooper. 
Washington Irving. 
Nathaniel Hawthorne. 



''Novels support us under solitude, and keep us from 
becoming a burden to ourselves. They help us to forget 
the crossness of men and things, compose our cares and 
our passions, and lay our disappointments asleep." 



JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 



JAMES FENIMORE COOPER 
1789-1852. 
"The Walter Scott of America!' 

If you are about to strive for your life, take with you a stout 
heart and a clean conscience, and trust the rest to God. 

—The Pilot. 

COOPER was the first American noveHst, and, in 
some respects, he still remains the greatest. His 
works have been more widely read, translated into more 
languages, and published in more literary centers than 
those of any other writer of his country. He was the 
pioneer in two of the greatest fields of fiction. In one of 
these, the romance of the forest and the prairie, he has 
had no rival. In the other, the romance of the sea, he 
has had many followers, but few real rivals, and no 
superior. Mr. Cooper was the author of the first histori- 
cal novel of America, The S'py, which appeared in 1 821 
and won for him everlasting fame. 

James Fenimore Cooper was born in Burlington, N. J., 
in 1789. His father was of English descent, a man of 
wealth, standing and culture, who, shortly after the birth 
of his now famous son, made a home for himself on 
the shores of Otsego Lake, in New York State, where 
he had an estate of seventeen thousand acres, and where 
the village of Cooperstown grew up around his stately 

207 



208 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATTJEE 



mansion, Otsego Hall. Mrs. Cooper was of Swedish 
descent, her maiden name being Fenimore. 

Young Cooper's early life was spent in the primeval 
forest. In the contest between advancing civilization and 
the pursuits of the Indian, the hunter, and the squatter, 
he acquired that intimate knowledge of forest life which 
he portrays so truthfully in his Leather Stocking Tales. 
At the age of thirteen he entered Yale College, but he 
did not stay to be graduated there ; unfortunately for his 
scholarship, he got into some frolic and was dismissed in 
disgrace in his third year. It was then determined that 
he should enter the navy, and for one year he shipped 
before the mast as a common sailor. During the next 
five years he served as a midshipman in the U. S. navy, 
making himself master of that knowledge and detail of 
nautical life which he afterwards employed to so much 
advantage in his sea tales. 

Cooper resigned his post as midshipman in 1811, and 
married Miss Delancey, with whom he lived happily fou 
forty years. The first few years of their married life 
were spent in Westchester County, a locality afterward 
made famous in The Spy. Then Cooper's father died, 
and he took possession of the family mansion at Coopers- 
town, which he had inherited, and prepared to spend the 
quiet life of a country gentleman. Up to this time, at 
the age of thirty-one, he seems never to have touched a 
pen or even thought of one except to write an ordinary 
letter. He was, however, very fond of reading, and often 
read aloud to his wife. One day, having finished reading 
an English novel, he threw it down with impatience, 
exclaiming: 'T could write a better story than that 
myself!" His wife laughed incredulously, but encour- 



JAMES FENIMORE COOPEE 



209 



aged him to try. He did try, and the result was so suc- 
cessful that in 1820 he anonymously published a book 
entitled Precaution. At that time no one had thouc^ht of 
writing a novel with the scene laid in America, and 
Precaution, with its English setting, was so thoroughly 
English that no one had a suspicion of its American 
authorship. The success which it met was not great, but 
Cooper realized that, as he had not failed with a novel 
describing British life, of which he knew little, he might 
succeed with one on American life, of which he was so 
well informed. He had just finished reading Scott's 
Ivanhoe, and he at once conceived the plan of writing 
an American historical novel. Accordingly The Spy ap- 
peared in 1 82 1. It was a tale of the revolution, and 
Harvey Birch, the spy, is one of the most interesting and 
effective characters in the realm of romantic literature. 
The book was an instant success and made its author 
famous. It ran through edition after edition in this 
country and was translated into four languages. 

The praises which met the author's ears from both 
sides of the Atlantic induced him to write The Pioneer. 
This was the first attempt to put into fiction the life of 
the frontier and the character of the backwoodsman. 
Here Cooper was in his element, on ground familiar to 
him from his infancy, but the book was a revelation to 
the outside world. It was in this work that one of the 
greatest characters in fiction, the old backwoodsman. 
Natty Bumpo, the famous Leather Stocking, first ap- 
peared. He gave his name to a series of tales which 
occupied the author about twenty years, but, strange to 
say, they were not written in regular order. To follow 
the story logically, one should read first The Deerslayer, 



210 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITEEATTJRE 



next The Last of the Mohicans, followed b}^ The Path- 
finder, then The Pioneer, and last of all The Prairie, in 
which the death of Leather Stocking occurs. 

Sir Walter Scott's Pirate appeared in 1821, and Cooper 
declared that it could not have been written by a man 
familiar with the sea. To prove this he wrote The Pilot, 
a novel celebrating many of the brilliant exploits of John 
Paul Jones. It was the first genuine salt-water novel 
ever written and to this day it is one of the best. Tom 
Coffin is the only one of Cooper's characters worthy to 
take its place by the side of Leather Stocking. Cooper 
produced in all ten sea tales, and together with his land 
tales demonstrated that he was equally at home amid the 
bounding billows or the leafy trees of the forest. He 
was known all over the world as the ''American Scott," 
though he never received the title with much pride. He 
composed about sixty or seventy distinct works in all. 
During the first decade of his literary life he published 
eleven novels, six of them being immortal. He consid- 
ered The Pathfinder and The Deerslayer his best works 
and many of his critics agree with him. 

After The Spy had made Cooper famous he moved to 
New York City, where he resided four years. Here his 
big heartedness and his force of character won for him 
great popularity in spite of the fact that he was con- 
tentious and prone to heated discussions. In 1826 he 
sailed for Europe, in various parts of which he lived for 
six years. Before his departure he was tendered a din- 
ner in New York, which was attended by many of the 
most prominent men of the nation. During his sojourn 
in Europe he associated with and enjoyed the respect of 
the greatest literary personages of the old world. ''It 



JAMES FENIMORE COOPEE 



211 



would be interesting to tell how Sir Walter Scott sought 
him out in Paris and renewed the acquaintance again in 
London ; how he lived . in friendship and intimacy with 
General Lafayette at the French capital; to tell of his 
association with Wordsworth and Rogers in London ; his 
intimate friendship with the great sculptor. Greenough, 
and his fondness for Italy, which country he preferred 
to all others outside of America; of the delightful little 
villa where he lived in Florence, where he said he could 
look out upon green leaves and write to the music of 
the birds ; to picture him settled for a summer in Naples ; 
living in Tasso's villa at Sorrento, writing his stories in the 
same house in which the great Italian author had lived, 
with the same glorious view of the sea and the bay, and 
the "^urf dashing almost against its walls. But space 
forbids that we should indulge in recounting these pleas- 
ant reminiscences." 

Cooper was much annoyed by the ignorance and pre- 
judice of the English in all that related to his country. 
It is said that at literary meetings and dinner parties he 
always carried in his pockets volumes from such poets 
as Bryant and Halleck, from which he would read quota- 
tions to prove his assertions of the merits of American 
poets and writers. He was extremely patriotic, and any 
sneer against his country or his countrymen immediately 
aroused his ire and his sarcastic pen. He wrote much 
with the kindly intention of bettering matters in general, 
but his methods were faulty and offensive. He seemed 
to be happiest when criticising most severely and when 
hitting the hardest. Such was his patriotism that he could 
endure nothing even from his own countrymen that was 
not high-minded, high-principled and refined. They, too, 



212 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



became the victims of his caustic pen, and, as a conse- 
quence, he lost in popularity at home as well as abroad. 

He returned to his home at Cooperstown in 1833, where 
he spent the remaining nineteen years of his life, dying 
on the fourteenth of September, one day before the sixty- 
second anniversary of his birth. A few days after his 
death a meeting of prominent men was held in New 
York in honor of their distinguished countryman. Wash- 
ington Irving presided and William CuUen Bryant deliv- 
ered a fitting tribute to him who had been the first to 
show how fit for fiction were the scenes, the character, 
and the history of his native land. Over seventy years 
have passed since then, but Cooper's men of the sea and 
his men of the forest and the plain still survive, and 
remain today the best of their kind. 

"James Fenimore Cooper was certainly the most re- 
markable personage in the whole list of American men 
of letters," says J. E. Bryant. "His character was noble 
and grand and his personality, to those who knew him 
intimately, genial and lovable. But his temper was 
irritable to a degree almost unparalleled and his judg- 
ment as to matters of conduct ofttimes downright absurd. 
His history (especially the years of his life after his 
return from Europe when he was involved in a series of 
lawsuits with the people of Cooperstown over land dis- 
putes, and with editors all over the country in hbel suits) 
is a sad one. It shows a magnificent endowment of 
ability and character largely frittered away in courses 
of action that a sane man of fewer talents would never 
have dreamed of. His splendid powers for months and 
years were devoted to controversies and legal disputes 
that should never have been thought of, and his work, 



JAMES FENIMORE COOPER 



213 



of which he accomplished so much, can show the hall- 
mark of his genius in only a few volumes. Although a 
favorite writer for boys, the boys of his acquaintance 
almost despised him and never lost an opportunity to 
worry and annoy him. They even went so far as to 
stone and rotten egg him on a few occasions." 

Cooper's domestic life was exceedingly happy and for- 
tunate. Those who knew him loved him most. His last 
illness was of only a few days' duration, and almost 
to the very last he was as vigorous in intellect as ever. 
His dearly loved wife, who had come to him forty years 
before as a bride of nineteen, followed only four months 
later. On his grave at Cooperstown stands a marble statue 
of Leather Stocking with dog and gun, keeping watch 
over the resting place of the genius whose magic pen 
called the gaunt backwoodsman into being. 

A PARTIAL LIST OF COOPER's WRITINGS FOR REFERENCE. 

The Leather Stocking Tales. The Red Rover. 

Lionel Lincoln. Bravo ! 

Precaution. The Pilot. 

History of the U. S. Navy. The Headsman. 

PLAN FOR STUDY OF ''tHE LAST OF THE MOHICANS."' 

(It is advisable to read and study carefully at least 
one book of Cooper's. The Last of the Mohicans has 
been chosen because it is undoubtedly his most popular 
book. After reading the book, discuss the following 
points : — ) 

L Significance of Title, 
n. Time and Place of Action. 



214 



STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITERATTJRE 



III. Geography and History of the Story. 

IV. Characters and mihtary leaders in the story. 
- V. Bits of noteworthy description. 

VI. Important Allusions. 

VII. Manners and customs of the times. 
VIII. Tragic episodes. 

IX. The Author's use of simile. 

X. The Indians of the story. 

Answer the following questions as a review test : — 

1. Write a 500-word summary of the story. 

2. What part of the story interested you most? 

3. Write a character sketch of Hawkeye. 

4. Contrast Alice and Cora. Which is the stronger 
character? Is the difference consistently carried out in 
the last chapters? 

5. Mention two incidents in which Cooper took ad- 
vantage of the superstitious characteristics of the In- 
dians to advance the plot of the story. 



THE CAPTURE OF A WHALE. 
From "The Pilot." 




CM," cried Barnstable, starting, ''there is the blow 
of a whale." 



"Ay, ay, sir," returned the cockswain, with undis- 
turbed equanimity ; "here is his spout, not half a mile to 
seaward ; the easterly gale has driven the creature to 
leeward, and he begins to find himself in shoal water. 
He's been sleeping, while he should have been working 
to windward !" 



JAMES FENIMOEE COOPER 



215 



"The fellow takes it cooly, too ! he's in no hurry to 
get an offing." 

''I rather conclude, sir," said the cockswain, rolling 
over his tobacco in his mouth very composedly, while his 
litle sunken eyes began to twinkle with pleasure at the 
sight, ''the gentleman has lost his reckoning and don't 
know which way to head to take himself back to blue 
water." 

" 'Tis a fin back !" exclaimed the lieutenant ; "he will 
soon make headway and be off." 

"No, sir ; 'tis a right whale," answered Tom ; "I saw 
his spout ; he threw up a pair of as pretty rainbows as a 
Christian would wish to look at. He's a raal oil-butt, 
that fellow!" 

Barnstable laughed and exclaimed in joyous tones: 

"Give strong way, my hearties ! There seems nothing 
better to be done; let us have a stroke of harpoon at that 
impudent rascal." 

The men shouted spontaneously, and the old cockswain 
sufifered his solemn visage to relax into a small laugh, 
while the whaleboat sprang forward like a courser for 
the goal. During the few minutes they were pulling 
towards their game long Tom arose from his crouching 
attitude in the stern sheets and transferred his huge 
frame to the bows of the boat, where he made such prep- 
aration to strike the whale as the occasion required. 

The tub, containing about half a whale line, was placed 
at the feet of Barnstable, who had been preparing an 
oar to steer with,, in place of the rudder, which was 
unshipped in order that, if necessary, the boat might be 
whirled around when not advancing. 

Their approach was utterly unnoticed by the monster 



216 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITEEATUEE 



of the deep, who continued to amuse himself with throw- 
ing the water in two circular spouts high into the air, 
occasionally flourishing the broad flukes of his tail with 
graceful but terrific force, until the hardy seamen were 
within a few hundred feet of him, when he suddenly cast 
his head downwards, and, without apparent effort, reared 
his immense body for many feet above the water, waving 
his tail violently, and producing a whizzing noise that 
sounded like the rushing of winds. The cockswain stood 
erect, poising his harpoon ready for the blow ; but, when 
he beheld the creature assuming his formidable attitude, 
he waved his hand to his commander, who instantly 
signed to his men to cease rowing. In this situation the 
sportsmen rested a few moments, while the whale struck 
several blows on the water in rapid succession, the noise 
of which re-echoed along the cliffs like the hollow re- 
ports of so many cannon. After the wanton exhibition 
of his terrible strength, the monster sunk again into his 
native element, and slowly disappeared from the eyes 
of his pursuers. 

''Which way did he head, Tom," cried Barnstable, the 
moment the whale was out of sight. 

"Pretty much up and down, sir," returned the cock- 
swain, whose eye was gradually brightening with the 
excitement of the sport ; "he'll soon run his nose against 
the bottom, if he stands long on that course, and will 
be glad enough to get another snuff of pure air ; send 
her a few fathoms to starboard, sir, and I promise we 
shall not be out of his track." 

The conjecture of the experienced old seaman proved 
true, for in a few minutes the water broke near them, 
and another spout was cast into the air, when the huge 



JAMES FENIMOEE COOPEE 



217 



animal rushed for half his length in the same direction, 
and fell on the sea with a turbulence and foam equal 
to that which is produced by the launching of a vessel, 
for the first time, into its proper element. After the 
evolution, the whale rolled heavily, and seemed to rest 
from further efforts. 

His slightest movements were closely watched by 
Barnstable and his cockswain, and, when he was in a 
state of comparative rest, the former gave a signal to 
his crew to ply their oars once more.' A few long and 
vigorous strokes sent the boat directly up to the broad- 
side of the whale, with its bows pointing toward one of 
the fins, which was, at times, as the animal yielded 
sluggishly to the action of the waves, exposed to view. 

The cockswain poised his harpoon with much pre- 
cision and then darted it from him with a violence that 
buried the iron in the body of their foe. The instant 
the blow was made, long Tom shouted, with singular 
earnestness, — 

"Starn all!" 

''Stern all!" echoed Barnstable; then the obedient sea- 
men, by united efforts, forced the boat in a backward 
direction, beyond the reach of any blow from their for- 
midable antagonist. The alarmed animal, however, 
meditated no such resistance ; ignorant of his own power, 
and of the insignificance of his enemies, he sought ref- 
uge in flight. One moment of stupid surprise succeeded 
the entrance of the iron, when he cast his huge tail into 
the air with a violence that threw the sea around him 
into increased commotion, and then disappeared with 
the quickness of lightning, amid a cloud of foam. 



218 



STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITEKATTJBE 



"Snub him!" shouted Barnstable; ''hold on, Tom; he 
rises already." 

''Ay, .ay, sir, replied the composed cockswain, seizing 
the line, which was running out of the boat with a 
velocity which rendered such a manoeuvre rather haz- 
ardous. 

The boat was dragged violently in his wake, and cut 
through the billows with a terriffic rapidity, that at 
moments appeared to bury the slight fabric in the ocean. 
When long Tom beheld- his victim throwing his spouts 
on high again, he pointed with exultation to the jetting 
fluid, which was streaked with the deep red of blood, 
and cried — 

"Ay, I've touched the fellow's life ! It must be more 
than two feet of blubber that stops my iron from reach- 
ing the life of any whale that ever sculled the ocean." 

"I believe you have saved yourself the trouble of using 
the bayonet you have rigged for a lance," said his 
commander, who entered into the sport with all the ardor 
of one whose youth had been chiefly passed in such 
pursuits ; "feel your line. Master Coffin ; can we haul 
alongside of our enemy? I like not the course he is 
steering, as he tows us from the schooner." 

"'Tis the creater's way, sir," said the cockswain ; 
"you know they need the air in their nostrils when they 
run, the same as a man ; but lay hold, boys, and let us 
haul up to him." 

The seamen now seized their whale line, and slowly 
drew their boat to within a few feet of the tail of the 
fish, whose progress grew sensibly less rapid as he be- 
came weak with the loss of blood. In a few minutes he 



JAMES FENIMOEE COOPEE 



219 



stopped running, and appeared to roll uneasily on the 
water, as if suffering the agony of death. 

"Shall we pull in and finish him, Tom? cried Barn- 
stable ; ''a few sets from your bayonet would do it." 

The cockswain stood examining his game with cool 
discretion, and replied to this interrogatory — 

''No, sir, no ; he's going into his flurry ; there's no 
occasion for disgracing ourselves by using a soldier's 
weapon in taking a whale. Starn off, sir, starn off ! the 
creater's in his flurry !" 

The warning of the prudent cockswain was promptly 
obeyed, and the boat cautiously drew off to a distance, 
leaving to the animal a clear space while under its dying 
agonies. From a state of perfect rest, the terrible mon- 
ster threw its tail on high as when in sport, but its blows 
were trebled in rapidity and violence, till all was hid 
from view by a pyramid of foam, that was deeply dyed 
with blood. The roarings of the fish were like the bel- 
lowings of a herd of bulls, and, to one who w^as ignorant 
of the fact, it would have appeared as if a thousand 
monsters were engaged in combat behind the bloody 
mist that obstructed the view. Gradually these efforts 
subsided, and, when the discolored water again settled 
down to the long regular swell of the ocean, the fish was 
seen exhausted and yielding passively to its fate. As 
Hfe departed, the enormous black mass rolled to one 
side ; and when the v/hite and glistening skin of the 
belly became apparent, the seamen well knew that their 
victory was achieved. 

Directions : 

I. Tell the story of the selection. 
II. Divide the selection into parts or scenes. 



220 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATUEE 

III. Compare Tom Coffin with Natty Bumpo. 

IV. What book of Sir Walter Scott's suggested The 

Pilot to Cooper? 

V. Where did Cooper obtain the knowledge of sea 
life which enabled him to make the book such 
a success? 

QUESTIONS ON COOPER. 

1. Write a short sketch of Cooper's life. 

2. Tell how he came to enter literature. 

3. What was his first book called? How was it re- 

ceived by the public? 

4. In what two fields of literature was Cooper the pio- 

neer ? 

5. W^hat was his first historical novel? Describe the 

hero of the tale. Tell of the book's success. 

6. Who was Leather Stocking? In what book did 

he first appear? Name the books in their order 
which one should read to follow his life story. 

7. Which is Cooper's most celebrated Sea Tale? Who 

is its hero ? What induced Cooper to write a salt- 
water story? 

8. Name six of Cooper's books. Classify them as to 

tales of the sea or of the land. 

9. What do you know of Cooper's public life? What 

did New York editors call him? Ans. — The 
Great Prosecutor, because he brought so many 
libel suits against them. 
10. Name six characters from Cooper's works, telling 
in what book each occurs. 



WASHINGTON IRVING 



221 



WASHINGTON IRVING. 
1783-1859. 

"The Cervantes of the Nezv World." 

* ' The first ambassador whom the v New World of letters sent to 
to the Old. ' ' 

What! Irving? thrice welcome warm heart and fine brain, 

You bring back the happiest spirit from Spain, 

And the gravest sweet humor, that ever were there 

Since Cervantes met death in his gentle despair; 

Nay, don't be embarrassed, nor look so beseeching, 

I shan't run directly against my own preaching. 

And having just laughed at their Raphaels and Dantes, 

Go to setting you up beside matchless Cervantes; 

But allow me to speak what I honestly feel. 

To a true poet heart add the fun of Dick Steele, 

Throw in all of Addison, minus the chill. 

With the whole of that partnership 's stock and good-will. 

Mix well, and while stirring, hum o'er, as a spell. 

The ''fine old English Gentlemen," simmer it well, 

Sweeten just to your own private liking, then strain, 

That only the finest and clearest remain. 

Let it stand out of doors till a soul it receives 

From the warm lazy sun loitering down through green leaves, 

And you '11 .find a choice nature not wholly deserving 

A name either English or Yankee — just Irving. 

— James Eussell Lowell. 

WASHINGTON Irving was the first American to 
openly adopt literature as a calling and to rely 
upon his pen for support. ''Since 1802, when Irving 
began to write, empires have arisen and passed away ; 
new arts have been invented and adopted and have 
pushed the old out of use ; the household economy of 



222 



STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITERATURE 



mankind has undergone a revolution ; science has learned 
a new dialect and forgotten the old; but the words of 
this charming writer are still as bright and even more 
read by men and women today than when they came 
fresh from his pen and their brilliant author was not 
only the literary lion of America, but was a shining 
light in the circles of the old World." 

Irving was born April 3, 1783 in New York City. 
History students will remember that at this time the 
British held this city, and George Washington was ex- 
erting all his forces to drive them away. The Irvings 
were staunch patriots, and so great was their joy and ex- 
ultation over the evacuation of the British, that Mrs. Irv- 
ing exclaimed : ''George Washington's work is ended 
and this child shall be named after him." Six years 
later, after Washington had become president, the child 
Irving was on the street with a servant girl, who, seeing 
the President passing near, called out: ^Tlease, your 
honor, here's a bairn was named after you." Wash- 
ington bade her bring the boy to him, and placing his 
hands on the lad's head, gave him his blessing. 

Young Irving was of Scotch descent, and, like Ben- 
jamin Franklin, w^as the youngest of many sons. He 
received only a common school education, leaving the 
schoolroom at the age of sixteen. His delicate health 
prevented him from entering college, but for several 
years he pursued a systematic course of reading the 
standard authors, especially Chaucer, Spencer, and Bun- 
yan. Even in boyhood he seemed to have a natural 
talent for writing essays and stories. He detested 
mathematics, and his schoolmates often worked out his 
problems for him, while he, to repay their kindness, 



WASHINGTON IRVING 



223 



wrote their compositions for them. After leaving 
school he began the study of law, but he did not like the 
drudgery and close confinement which it entailed. He 
would throw aside Blackstonc and Greenleaf, all too 
frequently for the success of his study, and go for long 
rambling excursions around Manhattan. Thus he ac- 
quired that minute knowledge of various historical loca- 
tions, curious traditions and legends, so beautifully made 
use of in his Sketch Book and in his History of New 
York. 

When Irving was nineteen he contributed a series of 
essays, under the signature of "Jonathan Oldstyle," to 
a daily paper of which his brother, Doctor Peter Irving, 
was editor. They were written in a humorous vein and 
met instant success, being quoted and copied as far and 
wide as the sayings of "Poor Richard" had been fifty 
years before. Two years later, Irving's failing health 
compelled him to give up his studies, he sailed for 
Europe, and remained abroad nearly two years. On his 
return, he resumed his legal studies and was admitted to 
the bar, but never practiced his profession. The next 
year, in company with his brother and James K. Spauld- 
ing, he began the publication of the Salmagundi, or 
Whim-Whams and Opinions of Lancelot Langstaif, Esq., 
which was issued fortnightly and ran through twenty 
numbers. The magazine was written in a humorous 
style, and intended by its authors only to ''hit off !" the 
gossip of that day. It has since become an amusing his- 
tory of society events a century ago, and is much read. 

In 1809, Washington Irving pubHshed his Knicker- 
bocker s History of New York, "The most unique, per- 
fectly rounded, and elaborately sustained burlesque in 



224 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



our literature." To introduce this book, Mr. Irving con- 
ceived a genuine Yankee scheme. Several months in 
advance of its publication, he advertised in the papers 
for an old gentleman by the name of Knickerbocker who 
had suddenly disappeared, leaving behind him the MSS. 
of a book and his board bill unpaid. Later, it was an- 
nounced that the landlord had decided to publish the 
book hoping thereby to realize enough profit to satisfy 
his claims against the author. "It proved to be the most 
readable book which had yet appeared in America, and 
was received with enthusiasm by the public," says a 
writer, in a sketch of the author's life. "Abroad it 
created almost as great a sensation. Sir Walter Scott 
read it aloud to his family, and it first revealed to the 
critics of the Old World that America was to have a 
literature of its own. This book quickly brought its 
author both reputation and money, and with bright hopes 
he entered the business firm of his brother as a silent 
partner." 

Irving now became editorially connected with the 
Analectic Magazine in Philadelphia, for which he wrote 
a number of articles that afterward appeared in The 
Sketch Book. His policy throughout the War of 1812 
was staunchly patriotic, though he deplored the war's 
existence. During the last year, he served as an aid to 
Governor Tompkins, and, as soon as peace was pro- 
claimed, made a second voyage across the Atlantic, in- 
tending to remain only a short time, but the failure of 
his brother blasted his business hopes, and removed the 
necessity for his return. He now devoted himself to 
literature to earn a living. His Sketch Book was pub- 
lished in J 819, and at once established his reputation as 



WASHINGTON lEVING 



225 



a great author. Irving received about $2,000 from Mur- 
ray, the London pubHsher, for the copyright. It was 
immediately translated into several different languages. 
The Sketch Book was followed in two years by Brace- 
bridge Hall, and it, in turn, by Tales of the Traveler. 
Irving spent some little time in Madrid, having been 
commissioned to make some translations from the Span- 
ish. To this residence in Spain, we are indebted for 
some of his most charming works, as Life of Columbtis, 
Conquest of 'Granada, The Alhamhra, Mahomet and His 
Successors, and Spanish Papers. During the last two 
years of Irving's stay abroad, he was Secretary of the 
United States Legation at London. He returned home 
in 1832, after an absence of seventeen years, and was 
received with great public honor. While abroad he had 
lived in the highest literary circles, and counted such 
men as Moore, Jeffrey, Campbell, Scott, and Thackeray 
among his friends. 

His books now brought him in ample income, and he 
built for himself a handsome residence at Irvington, New 
York, in the midst of the beautiful scenes which he had 
immortalized. His last years were spent at "Sunny- 
side," with the exception of four years (1842-46), during 
which time he represented the United States at the Court 
of Madrid. Mr. Irving's last and most carefully writ- 
ten work was the Life of Washington. In it, as in his 
Life of Columbus, he proved by his exhaustive inquiry 
into details and his treatment of the same that he might 
have been a master historian. Of Irving's biographies, 
The Life of Oliver Goldsmith, is said to be the best. 
He did not impose it upon himself as a task, but wrote 
it from a native and loving sympathy with his subject, 



226 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



and it is, therefore, one of the choicest Hterary memoirs 
in the language. But it is not on his biographies that 
Irving's title to enduring fame rests most securely, it is 
on his descriptive essays, such as we find in his Sketch 
Book, The Alhamhra, and Knickerbocker s History of 
New York. 

Although Irving was the first to reveal to his country- 
men the literary possibilities of their early history, it 
must be acknowledged that he had little sympathy with 
American life. He hated politics, and found no inspira- 
tion in the restless democratic movement of the times. 
He was moderate and placid and his fancy took refuge in 
picturing aspects of the past. Irving's gifts were deli- 
cate kindly humor, genial sentiment and a fertile imagi- 
nation. No one has ever rivaled him in peopling the 
"Sleepy Hollow,'' in describing the landscape and char- 
acter of the rocky crags of the Catskills, in giving to 
legend the substance of truth, or in presenting fiction so 
that it passed for a fact, as he did in his Knickerbocker's 
History, which, it is said, a certain German scholar 
quoted as authentic history. 

Washington Irving never married. At the age of 
twenty-six he was engaged to Miss Matilda Hof¥man, a 
charming and beautiful young lady, to whom he was de- 
votedly attached. His fiancee died suddenly, soon after 
their engagement, and Mr. Irving remained true to her 
memory through the long years of his life. He died at 
"Sunnyside," November 28, 1859, at the ripe age of 
seventy-six years. A friend, who saw much of him in 
his latter days, thus describes him : "He had dark gray 
eyes, a handsome straight nose which might be called 
large, a broad, high, full forehead, and a small mouth. 



WASHINGTON IRVING 



227 



I should call him of medium height, — about five feet and 
nine inches — and inclined to be a trifle stout. His smile 
was exceedingly genial, lightening up his whole face, 
and rendering it very attractive ; while if he were about 
to say anything humorous, it would beam forth from 
his eyes before his words were spoken." 

George William Curtis says of him, ''Irving was as 
quaint a figure as the Diedrich Knickerbocker in the 
preliminary advertisement of the History of New York. 
Thirty years ago he might have been seen on an au- 
tumnal afternoon, tripping with an elastic step along 
Broadway, with low quartered shoes neatly tied, and 
a Talma cloak, — a short garment like the cape of a cloak. 
There was a chirping, cheery, old-school air in his ap- 
pearance, which was undeniably Dutch, and most har- 
monious with the association of his writing. He seemed, 
indeed, to have stepped out of his own books ; and the 
cordial grace and humor of his address, if he stopped for 
a passing chat, were delightfully characteristic. He was 
then our most famous man of letters, but he was simply 
free from all self -consciousness and as-sumption and 
dogmatism.'' 

A PARTIAL LIST OF IRVING's WORKS FOR REFERE::CE. 



The Sketch Book. 
Life of Columbus. 
The Alhambra. 
Tours of the Prairies. 
Adventure of Capt. Bonne- 
ville. 

Mahomet and His Succes- 
sors. 



Wolfert's Roost and Other 

Papers. 
Bracebridge Hall. 
Conquest of Granada. 
Tales of the Traveler. 
Astoria. 

Life of Oliver Goldsmith. 
Knickerbocker's History. 



^28 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATUEB 



A DUTCH GOVERNOR. 

This narrative, in Washington Irving 's best vein of humor, is 
from his Knickerbocker's History of New York. Wouter Van 
Twiller was the second of four governors whom the Dutch West 
India Company sent out to rule their colony of New Netherlands, 
and who held this ofS.ce from 1623 to 1637. In the person of 
Van Twiller, Irving wittily caricatures the quaint and phlegmatic 
peculiarities of the Dutch colonists of New Amsterdam (now 
New York City). 

THE RENOWNED Woutcr (or Walter) Van Twiller was 
descended from a long line of Dutch burgomasters, 
who had successively dozed away their lives and grown 
fat upon the bench of magistracy in Rotterdam, and 
who had comported themselves with such singular wis- 
dom and propriety that they were never either heard 
or talked of — which, next to being universally applauded, 
should be the object of ambition of all magistrates and 
rulers. 

There are two opposite ways by which some men 
make a figure in the world ; one by talking faster than 
they think, and the other by holding their tongues and 
not thinking at all. By the first many a smatterer ac- 
quires the reputation of a man of quick parts ; by the 
other, many a dunderpate, like the owl, the stupidest of 
birds, comes to be considered the very type of wisdom. 

This, by the way, is a casual remark, which I would 
not for the universe have it thought I apply to Gov- 
ernor Van Twiller. It is true he was a man shut up 
within himself, like an oyster, and rarely spoke except 
in monosyllables ; but then, it was allowed he seldom 
said a foolish thing. So invincible was his gravity that 
he was never known to laugh, or even to smile, through 



.WASHINGTON lEVING 



229 



the whole course of a long and prosperous life. Nay, if 
a joke were uttered in his presence, that set light-minded 
hearers in a roar, it was observed to throw him into a 
state of perplexity. Sometimes he would deign to in- 
quire into the matter; and when, after much explana- 
tion, the joke was made as plain as a pike-staff, he 
would continue to smoke his pipe in silence, and at length, 
knocking out the ashes, would exclaim: "Well, I see 
nothing in all that to laugh about." 

With all his reflective habits, he never made up his 
mind on a subject. His adherents accounted for this 
by the astonishing magnitude of his ideas. He con- 
ceived every subject on so grand a scale that he had 
not room in his head to turn it over and examine both 
sides of it. 

Certain it is that, if any matter were propounded 
to him on which ordinary mortals would rashly deter- 
mine at first glance, he would put on a vague, mysterious 
look, shake his capacious head, smoke some time in pro- 
found silence, and at length observe that "he had doubts 
about the matter," which gained him the reputation of 
a man of slow belief, and not easily imposed upon. What 
is more, it gained him a lasting name ; for to this habit 
of the mind has been attributed the surname of Twiller, 
which is said to be a corruption of the original dwijfler, 
or, in plain English, doubter. 

The person of this illustrious old gentleman was 
formed and proportioned as though it had been molded 
by the hands of some cunning Dutch statuary, as a model 
of majesty and lordly grandeur. He was exactly five 
feet six inches in height, and six feet five inches in cir- 
cumference. His head was a perfect sphere, and of such 



230 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



Stupendous dimensions that Dame Nature, with all her 
sex's ingenuity, would have been puzzled to construct a 
neck capable of supporting it; wherefore she wisely de- 
clined the attempt, and settled it firmly on the top of 
his backbone, just between his shoulders. His body was 
oblong, and particularly capacious. His legs were short, 
but sturdy in proportion to the weight they had to sus- 
tain, so that when erect he had not a little the appearance 
of a beer barrel on skids. 

His face, that infallible index of the mind, presented a 
vast expanse, unfurrowed by any of those lines and an- 
gles which disfigure the human countenance with what is 
termed expression. Two small gray eyes twinkled feebly 
in the midst, like two stars of lesser magnitude in a hazy 
firmament ; and his full-fed cheeks, which seemed to 
have taken toll of everything that went into his mouth, 
were curiously mottled and streaked with dusky red,- like 
a Spitzenberg apple. 

His habits were as regular as his person. He daily 
took his four stated meals, appropriating exactly an hour 
to each ; he smoked and doubted eight hours, and he slept 
the remaining twelve of the four and twenty. 

Such was the renowned Wouter Van Twiller — a true 
philosopher, for his mind was either elevated above or 
tranquilly settled below the cares and perplexities of this 
world. He had lived in it for years, without feeling the 
least curiosity to know whether the sun revolved around 
it, or it round the sun ; and he had watched, for at least 
half a century, the smoke curling from his pipe to the 
ceiling, without once troubling his head with any of those 
numerous theories by which a philosopher would have 



WASHINGTON IRVING 



231 



puzzled his brain, in accounting for its rising above the 
surrounding atmosphere. 

In his council Governor Van Twiller presided with 
great state and solemnity. He sat in a huge chair of 
solid oak, hewn in the celebrated forest of The Hague, 
fabricated by an experienced timberman of Amsterdam, 
and curiously carved about the arms and feet into exact 
imitations of gigantic eagles' claws. Instead of a scepter 
he swayed a long Turkish pipe, wrought with jasmine 
and amber, which had been presented to a stadtholder 
of Holland at the conclusion of a treaty with one of 
the petty Barbary powers. 

In this stately chair would he sit, and this magnificent 
pipe would he smoke, shaking his right knee with a 
constant motion, and fixing his eye for hours together 
upon a little print of Amsterdam, which hung in a black 
frame against the opposite wall of the council-chamber. 
Nay, it has even been said that, when any deliberation 
of extraordinary length and intricacy was on the carpet, 
the renowned Wouter would shut his eyes for full two 
hours at a time, that he might not be disturbed by external 
objects ; and at such times the internal commotion of his 
mind was evinced by certain regular guttural sounds, 
which his admirers declared were merely the noise of con- 
flict made by his contending doubts and opinions. 

The very outset of the career of this excellent magis- 
trate was distinguished by an example of legal acumen 
that gave flattering presage of a wise and equitable ad- 
ministration. The morning after he had been installed 
in office, and at the moment that he was making his break- 
fast from a prodigious earthen dish filled with milk and 
Indian pudding, he was interrupted by the appearance of 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITEEATURE 



Wandle Schoonhoven, a very important old burgher of 
New Amsterdam, who complained bitterly of one Barent 
Bleecker, inasmuch as he refused to come to a settle- 
ment of accounts, seeing that there was a heavy balance 
in favor of the said Wandle. 

Governor Van Twiller, as I have already said, was a 
man of few words ; he was likewise a mortal enemy to 
multiplying writings— or being disturbed at his breakfast. 
Having listened attentively to the statement of Wandle 
Schoonhoven, giving an occasional grunt as he shoveled 
a spoonful of Indian pudding into his mouth — either a 
sign that he relished the dish or comprehended the story — 
he called unto him his constable, and, pulling out of his 
breeches-pocket a huge jackknife, dispatched it after the 
defendant as a summons, accompanied by his tobacco-box 
as a warrant. 

This summary process was as effectual in those simple 
days as was, the seal-ring of the great Haroun-al-Raschid 
among the true believers. The two parties being con- 
fronted before before him, each produced a book of ac- 
counts, written in a language and character that would 
have puzzled any but a High Dutch commentator, or a 
learned decipherer of Egyptian obelisks. The sage 
Wouter took them one after the other, and having poised 
them in his hands and attentively counted over the num- 
ber of leaves, fell straightway into a very great doubt, 
and smoked for half an hour without saying a word. 

At length, laying his finger beside his nose, and shut- 
ting his eyes for a moment, with the air of a man who 
has just caught a subtle idea by the tail, he slowly took 
his pipe from his mouth, puffed forth a column of tobacco 
smoke, and with marvelous gravity counted over the 



WASHINGTON IRVING 



233 



leaves and weighed the books. It was found that one 
was just as thick and heavy as the other; therefore it 
was the final opiniqn of the court that the accounts 
were equally balanced; therefore Wandle should give 
Barent a receipt, and Barent should give Wandle a re- 
ceipt, and the constable should pay the costs. 

This decision, being straightway made known, diffused 
general joy throughout New Amsterdam, for the people 
immediately perceived that they had a very wise and 
equitable magistrate to rule over them. But its happiest 
effect was that not another lawsuit took place throughout 
the whole of his administration, and the office of constable 
fell into such decay that there was not one of those losel 
scouts known in the province for many years. 

I am the more particular in dwelling on this transac- 
tion, not only because I deem it one of the most sage and 
righteous judgments on record, and well worthy the at- 
tention of modern magistrates, but because it was a mirac- 
ulous event in the history of the renowned Wouter — 
being the only time he was ever known to come to a 
decision in the whole course of his life. 

I. From what book is this selection taken? Tell 
something of the popularity of the work. How was it 
first brought to the notice of the people? What famous 
English writer was much pleased with the work? 

II. Where is Rotterdam? What is a burgomaster? 

III. Describe the personal appearance of Governor 
Van Twiller. 

IV. Tell the story of Van Twiller's first and only 
decision. 

V. In what droll way does the author convey the fact 



234 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



that the governor would sometimes snore for two hours 
at a time? Select other droll passages. 

VI. Select some ironical expressions. 

VII. Explain : Dutch commentator, losel scouts, The 
Hague, as plain as a pike-staff, adherents, renozvned. 

FAMOUS SKETCHES SUGGESTED FOR FURTHER READING. 

The Legend of Sleepy Hoi- The Voyage. 

low. The Wife. 

The Christmas Dinner. Rural Funerals. 
The Art of Book-Making. The Spectre Bridegroom. 
Stratford-on-Avon. 

These sketches are all found in The Sketch Book. 



QUESTIONS ON IRVING. 

1. Sketch the life of Washington Irving. 

2. Name his most important works. Five short 
sketches. 

3. Describe three characters taken from his books, 
and tell in what work they are found. 

4. Tell the story of Rip Van Winkle. The Le'gend 
of Sleepy Hollow. 

5. Name some traditions and stories which Irving 
made use of in his sketches. Where is the scene of most 
of his stories ? 

6. Describe **Sunnyside," and Irving's life there. 

7. Describe Irving's personal appearance. His char- 
acter. From whom, and why did he receive his Chris- 
tian name? 

8. Name three works of biography written by Irving. 
Which one is considered the best? Why? 



NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 



235 



9. What is there about Irving's style which makes it 
so pleasing? 

10. Upon what works does his fame rest? 

REFERENCES. 

Life of Washington Irving, C. D. Warner. 
Studies of Irving, G. P. Putnam. 
In the Churchyard at Tarrytown, Longfellow. 
Washington Irving, poem, by R. H. Thayer. 



NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 
1 804- 1 864. 

''The Greatest of American Romancers'' 

There is Hawthorne, with genius, so shrinking and rare 

That you hardly at first see the strength that is there; 

A frame so robust, with a nature so sweet. 

So earnest, so graceful, so solid, so fleet, 

Is worth a descent from Olympus to meet. — Lowell. 



NATHANIEL Hawthorne has perhaps no equal 
in romance in the English world of letters. A 
noted critic says : ''His genius was greater than that of 
Emerson. To the rhetorician his style is a study ; to the 
lay reader, a delight that eludes analysis. He is the most 
eminent representative of the American spirit in litera- 
ture." Another writer truthfully says : "No black knight 
in Sir Walter Scott's novels, nor the red Indians of 
Cooper, nor his famous pioneer, Leather Stocking of the 
forest, nor his long Tom of ■ the ocean, ever seemed 
more truly romantic than do Hawthorne's stern and 
gloomy Calvinists of The Scarlet Letter, and The House 



236 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



of Seven Gables, or his Italian hero of The Marble Faun. 
He it was who immortahzed the Puritan Hfe of New 
England in his great masterpiece, The Scarlet Letter." 

Hawthorne was born July 4, 1804, in the old town of 
Salem, Massachusetts, where his Puritan ancestors had 
lived for nearly two hundred years. His father was a 
sea captain, a most melancholy and silent man, who died 
when Nathaniel was four years old. His mother lived 
a sad, secluded life entirely withdrawn from the world, 
and her son early learned to exist in a strange and imag- 
inative world of his own creation. His health was deli- 
cate, and, for this reason, a great part of his early youth 
was spent on his grandfather's farm near Sebago Lake, 
in Maine, then on the edge of the primitive forest. He 
entered Bowdoin College at the age of seventeen years, 
and graduated four years later in the same class with 
Longfellow. Franklin Pierce, who was Hawthorne's life- 
long intimate friend, graduated the year before him. 

After leaving college Hawthorne buried himself for 
years in the seclusion of his mother's home, seeing no 
other society than that of his m.other and sisters for 
months at a time. He spent the day reading all sorts of 
books and writing wild tales, most of which he destroyed 
as soon as he had written them. At twilight he would 
go for a solitary ramble through the town or along the 
seaside. "Old Salem had much that was picturesque in 
its associations," says Beers. "It had been the scene of 
the witch trials in the seventeenth century, and it abound- 
ed in ancient mansions, the homes of retired whalers and 
India merchants. One of Hawthorne's forefathers, a 
certain Judge Hawthorne, had, in 1691, sentenced several 
of the witches to death. The thought of this affected 



NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 



237 



Hawthorne's imagination with a pleasing horror, and 
he afterwards utilized it in The House of the Seven 
Gables. Many of the old Salem houses, too, had their 
family histories, with now and then the hint of some ob- 
scure crime or dark misfortune which haunted posterity 
with its curse till all the stock died out or fell into poverty 
and evil ways, as in the Pyncheon family of Hawthorne's 
romance." This sort of life would have had little attrac- 
tion for most men, but, during these twelve years of soli- 
tude, Hawthorne enjoyed himself in his own way, storing 
his mind, training his imagination, forming his style and 
preparing for his splendid literary fame of later years. 

Hawthorne's first book, Fanshawe, a novel, was issued 
at his own expense three years after his graduation, in 
1828, but it had little success, and copies of the first edi- 
tion are now exceedingly rare. From time to time during 
his seclusion he contributed a story or a sketch to some 
periodical such as the Token, or the Kiiickerhocker Mag- 
azine; but they were anonymous, signed by various noms 
de plume, and, though they attracted some little attention, 
won no prestige for their author, who was then, in his 
own words, "the obscurest man of letters in America." 
Mr. Goodrich, editor of the Token, pleased by the (!liar- 
acter of the work which Hawthorne sent to him, engaged 
him as editor of the American Magazine of Useful and 
Entertaining Knowledge. This position he held for two 
years, during which he contributed some of his best stories 
to the New England Magazine, The Knickerbocker and 
the Democratic Review. In 1837, he collected these maga- 
zine stories and in company with others, the fruit of his 
twelve years' labor, issued them in one volume entitled 
Twice Told Tales. The book was favorably received and 



238 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATUEE 



the reading public at once conceded that Hawthorne had 
a richer style and a firmer grasp of the art of fiction than 
either Irving or Cooper. Longfellow received the book 
of his former classmate with hearty commendation, and 
Edgar Allan Poe predicted that Hawthorne might easily 
take first rank in the field of romance if he would drop 
allegory, an advice which Hawthorne never entirely fol- 
lowed. Hawthorne was so encouraged by the favorable 
critcisms of his effort that he left his seclusion and mixed 
with his fellow-men once more. His friend, Bancroft, the 
historian, secured him a position in the U. S. Custom 
House at Salem, which he held for three years. Later, in 
the preface to The Scarlet Letter, he sketched some of the 
government officials, with whom this office had brought 
him into contact, with a fine, quiet humor, like Irving's, 
only with a more satiric edge to it, in such a way that it 
gave offense to the friends of the victims and a great deal 
of amusement to the public. After losing his place 
through political jobbery, he joined in the Brook Farm 
settlement, though he was never in sympathy with the 
transcendental notions of Emerson and his followers. His 
note books at this time were full of discontent with his 
life at Brook Farm, and the literary product which was 
the result of this experience was the Blythedale Romance, 
the only literary memorial of this association. The hero- 
ine of this novel, Zenobia, was a counterpart of Margaret 
Fuller, and the description of the drowning of Zenobia 
is the most tragic passage in all the writings of the 
author. 

Hawthorne married Miss Sophia Peabody in 1842. 
They moved to Concord, where they resided in the ''Old 
Manse," a house which had been built for Emerson's 



NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 



239 



grandfather and in which Emerson himself had Hved for 
ten years. Hawthorne chose for liis study the same room 
in which the philosopher had written his famous book, 
Nature. He often said that the four years he spent at 
the Old Manse were the happiest of his life. During this 
time he collected another lot of his stories and issued a 
second volume of Tzvice Told Talcs; one year after this 
he published another collection of tales under the title 
Mosses From an Old Manse. In its introductory chapter 
this book gives delightful pictures of the home life in the 
"Old Manse." In 1846, the larger demands of a growing 
family upon his slender income compelled Hawthorne to 
seek a business appointment, and a friend helped him to 
secure that of surveyor of customs at Salem. 
While engaged in this business he planned and wrote his 
famous book, The Scarlet Letter, which was published in 
1850. "Whatever obscurity may have hung over Haw- 
thorne hitherto," says Beers, "was ef¥ectually dissolved 
by this powerful tale, which was as vivid in coloring as 
the implication of its title." Hav/thorne chose for his 
background the somber life of the early settlers of New 
England. He had always been drawn toward this part of 
American history, as Endicott's Red Cross, Legends of 
the Province House and other selections from Tzvice Told 
Tales fully prove. "In tragic power, in its grasp of the 
elementary passions of human nature, and in its deep and 
subtle insight into the inmost secrets of the heart," says 
the critic quoted before, "this is Hawthorne's greatest 
book." Many critics place The House of the Seven Ga- 
bles, published in 1852, on nearly an equal footing with 
the The Scarlet Letter. This work was followed by Haw- 
thorne's wonderful Wonder-Book, a volume of classic 



340 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



stories for ^children ; Tanglewood Tales, a continuation 
of these classic legends, and The Life of Franklin Pierce, 
which was written to assist his friend, who was running 
for president of the United States. 

In 1853 Pierce was elected president and rewarded his 
faithful friend by appointing him consul to Liverpool. 
This position Mr. Hawthorne held for four years, and 
then spent three years traveling on the continent, gather- 
ing material for The Marble Faun, which was published 
in England in i860. 'The theme of this was the develop- 
ment of the soul through the experience of sin. There is 
a haunting mystery thrown about the story, like a soft veil 
of mist, veiling the beginning and the end. There is even 
a delicate teasing suggestion of the preternatural in 
Donatello, the Faun, a creation as original as Shakes- 
peare's Caliban or Fouque's Undine, and yet quite on this 
side the border line of the human. . . . This is per- 
haps Mr. Hawthorne's most allegorical work. Hilda, 
Kenyon, Miriam, and Donatello have been ingeniously 
explained as personifications respectively of the con- 
science, the reason, the imagination and the senses." 

Hawthorne returned to America in i860, and made 
his home at 'The Wayside" in Concord, which he had 
purchased just before going abroad. He busied himself 
now in writing a series of articles for the Atlantic 
Monthly, w^hich were collected and published in 1863 
under the title of Our Old Home. Other MSS., including 
The Dolliver Romance, Septimus Felton, and Dr. Grim- 
shawe's Secret, were published after his death. Mrs. 
Hawthorne also edited and published her husband's 
American and English Note-Books and his French and 
Italian Note-Books. 



NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE . 241 



Hawthorne's health was very delicate during the last 
few years of his life. He died suddenly at Plymouth, 
New Hampshire, May i8, 1864, while traveling with 
his friend, ex-President Pierce. He was buried in the 
Concord cemetery, near where Emerson and Thoreau 
now rest. Longfellow, Whittier, Emerson, and Lowell 
attended the funeral. His publisher, Mr. Field, was also 
present, and wrote: ''We carried him through the 
blossoming orchards of Concord and laid him down in 
a group of pines on the hillside, the unfinished romance 
which had cost him such anxiety laid upon his coffin." 
Longfellow was much touched by the funeral service 
and the sight of the "unfinished MS. upon which his 
friend had spent so much time. On his return home he 
wrote an exquisite poem describing the scene and refer- 
ring in the closing lines to the uncompleted romance : 

Ah, who shall lift that wand of magie power, 

And the lost clue regain? 
The unfinished window in Alladin's tower 

Unfinished must remain. 

Mrs. Hawthorne, who had been of so much help to 
her distinguished husband, survived him nearly seven 
years. She died in London at the age of sixty, and was 
buried in Kensal Green Cemetery. Fourteen years later 
Julian Hawthorne gave to the world the life story of 
his talented father and mother in a biographical work 
entitled Nathaniel Hazvthorne and Wife. 

Blaisdell says: ''Hawthorne was a shy and reserved 
man, but possessed of many kind and lovable traits. 
His intimate friends cherished him with loving admira- 
tion and sincere friendship. He had a strong physical 
frame and a tall stature. He had broad shoulders, a 



242 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



deep chest, and a massive head. His gray-blue eyes 
were large and lustrous. His hair was dark brown, and 
of remarkable fineness; his skin delicate, giving unusual 
softness to his complexion. In all business matters he 
was the soul of honor. His fault was that he attributed 
to other people a sense of honor equal to his own." 

SELECTIONS FROM HAWTHORNE S WRITINGS. 

"We can be but partially acquainted with the events 
which actually influence our course through life, and 
our final destiny. There are innumerable other events — 
if such they may be called — which come close uporu us, 
yet pass away without actual results, or even betraying 
their near approach by the reflection of any light or 
shadow across our minds. Could we know all the vicis- 
situdes of our fortunes, life would be too full of hope and 
fear, exultation or disappointment, to afiford us a single 
hour of true serenity." — From David Swan. 

"Methinks my little wife is twin sister to the Spring; 
so they should greet one another tenderly — for they are 
both fresh and dewy, both full of hope and cheerfulness ; 
both have bird voices, always singing out of their hearts ; 
both are sometimes overcast with flitting mists, which 
only make the flowers bloom brighter, and both have 
power to renew and re-create the weary spirit. I have 
married the Spring! I am husband to the month of 
May !" — Hawthorne's Journal. 

"On the soil of thought and in the garden of the 
heart, as well as in the sensual world, lie withered 
leaves — the ideas and feelings that we have done with." 

"I am glad to think that God sees through my heart; 



^ NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 



243 



and if any angel has power to penetrate it, he is welcome 
to everything that is there." 

*'It is impossible not to be fond of our mother (Na- 
ture) now, for she is so fond of us! At other periods 
she does not make this impression on me, or only at 
rare intervals ; but in those genial days of autumn, when 
she has perfected her harvests and accomplished every 
needful thing that was given her to do, then she over- 
flows with a blessed superfluity of love. She has leisure 
to caress her children now. It is good to be alive at 
such times. Thank Heaven for breath — yes, for mere 
breath — when it is made up of a heavenly breeze like 
this ! It comes with a real kiss upon our cheeks ; it 
would linger fondly around us if it might; but, since it 
must be gone, it embraces us with its whole kindly heart 
and passes onward to embrace likewise the next thing 
it meets. A blessing is flung abroad and scattered far 
and wide over the earth, to be gathered up by all who 
choose. I recline upon the still unwithered grass and 
whisper to myself: *0 perfect day! O beautiful world! 
O beneficent God !' And it is the promise of a blessed 
eternity; for our Creator would never have made such 
lovely days and have given us the deep hearts to enjoy 
them, above and beyond all thought, unless we were 
meant to be immortal. This sunshine is the golden 
pledge thereof. It beams through the gates of paradise 
and shows us glimpses far inward." 

A PARTIAL LIST OF HAWTHORNE's WORKS FOR REFERENCE. 



Fanshawe. The House of Seven Ga- 

Mosses From an Old bles. 

Manse. The Blythedale Romance. 



244 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



The Wonder Book, 
The Marble Faun. 



The Wonder Book. 
Life of Franklin Pierce. 
Tanglewood Tales. 
Our Old Home. 
Septimius Felton. 



The Dolliver Romance. 
Dr. Grimshawe's Secret. 
Twice Told Tales. 



The Scarlet Letter. 

A RILL FROM THE TOWN PUMP. 
{Scene, the corner of Essex and Washington streets, Salem, the 
Town Pump talMng through its nose.) 

NOON BY the north clock! Noon by the east; High 
noon, too, by these hot sunbeams, which fall, 
scarcely aslope, upon my head and almost make the water 
bubble and smoke in the trough under my nose. Truly, 
we public characters have a tough time of it! And 
among all the town officers chosen at a March meeting, 
where is he that sustains for a single year the burden of 
such manifold duties as are imposed in perpetuity upon 
the town-pump? The title of ''town-treasurer" is right- 
fully mine, as guardian of the best treasure that the 
town has. The overseers of the poor ought to make me 
their chairman, since I provide bountifully for the pau- 
per without expense to him that pays taxes. I am at the 
head of the fire department and one of the physicians to 
the board of health. As a keeper of the peace all water- 
drinkers will confess me equal to the constable. I per- 
form some of the duties of the town-clerk, by promul- 
gating public notices when they are posted on my front. 
To speak within bounds, I am the chief person of the 
municipality, and exhibit, moreover, an admirable pat- 
tern to my brother officers by the cool, steady, upright, 
downright and impartial discharge of my business and 



NATHANIEL HAWTHOENE 



245 



the constancy with which I stand to my post. Summer 
or winter nobody seeks me in vain, for all day long I 
am seen at the busiest comer, just above the market, 
stretching out my arms to rich and poor alike, and at 
night I hold a lantern over my head, both to show where 
I am and to keep people out of the gutters. At this sul- 
try noontide I am cupbearer to the parched populace, for 
whose benefit an iron goblet is chained to my waist. Like 
a dram-seller on the mall at muster-day, I cry aloud to 
all and sundry in my plainest accents and at the very tip 
top of my voice. 

Here it is gentlemen ! Here is the good liquor ! Walk 
up, walk up, gentlemen ! Walk up, walk up ! Here is 
the superior stuff ! Here is the unadulterated ale of 
Father Adam — better than Cognac, Hollands, Jamaica, 
strong beer or wine of any price ; here it is by the hogs- 
head or the single glass, and not a cent to pay ! Walk 
up, gentlemen, walk up, and help yourselves ! 

It were a pity if all this outcry should draw no cus- 
tomers. Here they come. — A hot day, gentlemen ! Quaff 
and away again, so as to keep yourselves in a nice cool 
sweat. — You, my friend, will need another cupful to 
wash the dust out of your throat, if it be as thick there 
as it is on your cowhide shoes. I see that you have 
trudged half a score of miles today, and like a wise man 
have passed by the taverns and stopped at the running 
brooks and well-curbs. Otherwise, betwixt heat without 
and fire within, you would have been burnt to a cinder 
or melted down to nothing at all, in the fashion of a 
jelly-fish. Drink and make room for that other fellow, 
who seeks my aid to quench the fever of last night's 
potations, which he drained from no cup of mine. — Wei- 



24:6 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



come, most rubicund sir ! You and I have been great 
strangers hitherto; nor, to confess the truth, will my 
nose be anxious for a closer intimacy till the fumes of 
your breath be a little less potent. Mercy on you, man! 
the water absolutely hisses down your red-hot gullet and 
is converted quite to steam in the miniature Tophet 
which you mistake for a stomach. Fill again, and tell 
me, on the word of an honest toper, did you ever, in 
cellar, tavern, or any kind of a dram-shop, spend the 
price of your children's food for anything half so deli- 
cious? Now, for the first time these ten years, you 
know the flavor of cold water. Good bye ; and whenever 
you are thirsty, remember that I keep a constant supply 
at the old stand. — Who next? — Oh, my little friend, you 
are let loose from school and come here to scrub your 
blooming face and drown the memory of certain taps of 
the ferule, and other school-boy troubles, in a draught 
from the town-pump? Take it, pure as the current of 
your young life. Take it, and may your heart and tongue 
never be scorched with a fiercer thirst than now ! There, 
my dear child! put down the cup and yield your place 
to this elderly gentleman who treads so tenderly over the 
paving-stones that I suspect he is afraid of breaking 
them. What! he limps by without so much as thanking 
me, as if my hospitable offers were meant only for peo- 
ple who have no wine-cellars. — Well, well, sir, no harm 
done, I hope? Go draw the cork, tip the decanter; but 
when your great toe shall set you a-roaring, it will be no 
affair of mine. If gentlemen love the pleasant titilla- 
tion of the gout, it is all one to the town-pump. This 
thirsty dog with his red tongue lolling out does not 
scorn my hospitality, but stands on his hind legs and 



NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 247 

laps eagerly out of the trough. See how lightly he 
capers away again ! — Jowler, did your worship ever have 
the gout? 

Are you all satisfied? Then wipe your mouths, my 
good friends, and while my spout has a moment's leisure 
I will delight the town with a few historical remini- 
scences. In far antiquity, beneath a darksome shadow 
of venerable boughs, a spring bubbled out of the leaf- 
strewn earth in the very spot where you now behold me 
on the sunny pavement. The water was as bright and 
clear and deemed as precious as liquid diamonds. The 
Indian sagamores drank of it from time immemorial till 
the fatal deluge of the fire-water burst upon the red men 
and swept their whole race away from the cold foun- 
tains. Endicott and his followers came next, and often 
knelt down to drink, dipping their long beards in the 
spring. The richest goblet then was of birch-bark. Gov- 
ernor Winthrop, after a journey afoot from Boston, 
drank here out of the hollow of his hand. The elder 
Higginson here wet his palm and laid it on the brow of 
the first town-born child. For many years it was the 
watering-place, and, as it were, the washbowl of the 
vicinity, whither all decent folks resorted to purify their 
visages and gaze at them afterward — at least, the pretty 
maidens did — in the mirror which it made. On Sabbath- 
days, whenever a babe was to be baptized, the sexton 
filled his basin here and placed it on the communion- 
table of the humble meeting-house, which partly covered 
the site of yonder stately brick one. Thus one genera- 
tion after another was consecrated to Heaven by its 
waters, and cast their waxing and waning shadows into 
its glassy bosom, and vanished from the earth, as if 



248 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITEEATUEE 

mortal life were but a living image in a fountain. Finally 
the fountain vanished also. Cellars were dug on all 
sides and cart-loads of gravel flung upon its source-, 
whence oozed a turbid stream, forming a mud-puddle at 
the corner of two streets. In the hot months, when its re- 
freshment was most needed, the dust flew in clouds over 
the forgotten birthplace of the waters, now their grave. 
But in the course of time a town-pump was sunk into 
the source of the ancient spring; and when the first de- 
cayed, another took its place, and then another, and still 
another, till here stand I, gentlemen and ladies, to serve 
you with my iron goblet. Drink and be refreshed. The 
water is as pure and cold as that which slaked the thirst 
of the red sagamore beneath the aged boughs, though 
now the gem of the wilderness is treasured under these 
hot stones, where no shadow falls but from the brick 
buildings. And be it the moral of my story that, as this 
wasted and long-lost fountain is now known and prized 
again, so shall the virtues of cold water — too little val- 
ued since your father's days — be recognized by all. 

Your pardon, good people ! I must interrupt my 
stream of eloquence and spout forth a stream of water to 
replenish the trough for this teamster and his two yoke 
of oxen, who have come from Topsfield, or somewhere 
along that way. No part of my business is pleasanter 
than the watering of cattle. Look! how rapidly they 
lower the water-mark on the sides of the trough, till 
their capacious stomachs are moistened with a gallon or 
two apiece and they can afford time to breathe it in with 
sighs of calm enjoyment. Now they roll their quiet eyes 
around the brim of their monstrous drinking-vessel. 

But I perceive, my dear auditors, that you are im- 



NATHANIEL HAWTHOENE 



249 



patient for the remainder of my discourse. Impute it, 
I beseech you, to no defect of modesty if I insist a Httle 
longer on so fruitful a topic as my own multifarious 
merits. It is altogether for your good. The better you 
think of me, the better men and women you will find 
yourselves. I shall say nothing of my all important aid 
on washing-days, though on that account alone I might 
call myself the household god of a hundred families. 
Far be it from me, also, to hint, my respectable friends, 
at the show of dirty faces which you would present 
without my pains to keep you clean. Nor will I remind 
you how often, when the midnight bells make you trem- 
ble for your combustible town, you have fled to the town- 
pump and found me always at my post firm amid the 
confusion and ready to drain my vital current in your 
behalf. Neither is it worth while to lay much stress on 
my claims to a medical diploma as the physician whose 
simple rule of practice is preferable to all the nauseous 
lore which has found men sick, or left them so, since the 
days of Hippocrates. Let us take a broader view of my 
beneficial influence on mankind. 

*No; these are trifles, compared to the merits which 
wise men concede to me — if not in my single self, yet 
as the representative of a class — of being the grand re- 
former of the age. From my spout, and such spouts as 
mine, must flow the stream that shall cleanse our earth 
of the vast portion of its crime and anguish which has 
gushed from the fiery fountains of the still. In this 
mighty enterprise the cow shall be my confederate. Milk 
and water — the town-pump and the Cow ! Such is 
the glorious copartnership that shall tear down the dis- 
tilleries and brew-houses, uproot the vineyards, shatter 



350 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 

the cider-presses, ruin the tea and coffee trade, and fin- 
ally monopolize the whole business of quenching thirst. 
Blessed consummation ! Then Poverty shall pass away 
from the land, finding no hovel so wretched where her 
squalid form may shelter herself. Then Disease, for 
lack of other victims, shall gnaw its own heart and die. 
Then Sin, if she do not die, shall lose half her strength. 
Until now the frenzy of hereditary fever has raged in 
the human blood, transmitted from sire to son and re- 
kindled in every generation by fresh draughts of Hquid 
flame. When that inward fire shall be extinguished, the 
heat of passion cannot but grow cool, and war — the 
drunkenness of nations — perhaps will cease. At least, 
there will be no war of households. The husband and 
wife, drinking deep of peaceful joy — a calm bliss of tem- 
perate affections — shall pass hand in hand through life 
and lie down not reluctantly at its protracted close. To 
them the past will be no turmoil of bad dream, nor the 
eternity of such moments as follow the dehrium of the 
drunkard. Their dead faces shall express what their 
spirits were and are to be by a lingering smile of memory 
and hope. 

Ahem ! Dry work, this speechifying, especially to an 
unpracticed orator. I never conceived till now what toil 
the temperance lecturers undergo for my sake ; hereafter 
they shall have the business to themselves. — Do, some 
kind Christian, pump a stroke or two, just to wet my 
whistle. — Thank you, sir! — My dear hearers, when the 
world shall have been regenerated by my instrumentality, 
you will collect your useless vats and liquor-casks into 
one great pile and make a bonfire in honor of the town- 
pump. And when I shall have decayed like my predeces- 



NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 



251 



sors, then, if you revere my memory, let a marble foun- 
tain richly sculptured take my place upon this spot. Such 
monuments should be erected everywhere and inscribed 
with the names of the distinguished champions of my 
cause. Now, listen, for something very important to 
come next. 

There are two or three honest friends of mine — and 
true friends I know they are — who nevertheless by their 
fiery pugnacity in my behalf do put me in fearful hazard 
of a broken nose, or even a total overthrow upon the 
pavement and the loss of the treasure which I guard. — I 
pray you, gentlemen, let this fault be amended. Is it 
decent, think you, to get tipsy with zeal for temperance 
and take up the honorable cause of the town-pump in the 
style of a toper fighting for his brandy-bottle? Or can 
the excellent qualities of cold water be no otherwise ex- 
emplified than by plunging slapdash into hot water and 
woefully scalding yourselves and other people? Trust 
me, they may. In the moral warfare which you are to 
wage — and, indeed, in the whole conduct of your lives 
— ^you cannot choose a better example than myself, who 
have never permitted the dust and sultry atmosphere, the 
turbulence and manifold disquietudes, of the world 
around me to reach that deep, calm well of purity which 
may be called my soul. And whenever I pour out that 
soul, it is to cool earth's fever or cleanse its stains. 

One o'clock ! Nay, then, if the dinner-bell begins to 
speak, I may as well hold my peace. Here comes a 
pretty young girl of my acquaintance with a large stone 
pitcher for me to fill. May she draw a husband while 
drawing her water, as Rachel did of old ! — Hold out 
your vessel, my dear ! There it is, full to the brim ; so 



252 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



now run home, peeping at your sweet image in the 
pitcher as you go, and forget not in a glass of my own 
Hquor to drink ''success to the town-pump." 



1. "He is so simple, so transparent, so just, so tender, 
so magnanimous, that my highest instinct could only cor- 
respond with his will. I never knew such delicacy of 
nature. He has perfect dominion over himself in every 
respect, so that to do the highest, wisest, loveliest thing 
is not the least effort to him, .any more than it is to a 
baby to be innocent. I never knew such loftiness, so 
simply borne. I have never known him to stoop from it 
in the most trivial household matter, any more than in 
a larger and more public one." — Mrs. Hawthorne. 

2. "In all the higher literary qualities, in all that con- 
stitutes creative genius, he is indisputably the first. He 
found his own field of labor, like Cooper, but is entitled 
to higher honors as a discoverer, inasmuch as that field 
was loftier and more remote. His style is no less limpid 
than that of Irving, and is the more attractive, in so far 
as it betrays the portions of no model and the manner of 
no former period. He is at once the rarest and purest 
growth of the intellectual and social soil from which he 
sprang. He is not only American, but no other race or 
time could possibly have produced him." — Bayard Tay- 
lor, 



SUGGESTED TALES FOR FURTHER STUDY. 



The Snow Image. 
The Golden Fleece. 
The Great Bunckle. 



The Great Stone Face. 
The Sunken Treasure. 
Little Daffydowndilly. 



CRITICISMS. 



NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 253 

3. "His characters are real and definitely outlined, but 
they are all seen in a single light — the contemplative 
light of the particular idea which has floated before him 
in each of his stories — and they are seen, not fully and 
in their integrity, as things are seen by dayHght, but like 
things touched by moonlight — only so far as they are 
lighted up by the idea of the story. The thread of unity 
which connects his tales is always some pervading 
thought of his own ; they are not written mainly to dis- 
play character, still less for the mere narrative interest, 
but for the illustration they cast on some idea or convic- 
tion of their author's. His novels are not novels in the 
ordinary sense; they are ideal situations expanded by 
minute study and trains of clear, pale thought into the 
dimensions of novels." — Hutton. 

REFERENCES. 

Nathaniel Hawthorne and His Wife, Julian Haw- 
thorne. 

Memories of Hawthorne, Rose Hawthorne Lathrop, 
Hawthorne poem, Longfellow. 
Hawthorne poem, Stedman. 
Hawthorne in Berkshire, poem. Gilder, 
Yesterdays With Authors, Fields. 

QUESTIONS ON HAWTHORNE. 

1. Tell the story of Hawthorne's life. 

2. Name four of his best known works. 

3. Name his masterpiece! Where is the scene laid? 
Why is it a great work? 

4. What is an allegory? Which one of Hawthorne's 
books is the most allegorical ? What have the characters 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



been explained as personifications of? What is the 
theme of the book? 

5. Name two of Hawthorne's best known books for 
children. 

6. Name three characters from his books and tell 
where they occur. 

7. What books are composed of collections of maga- 
zine stories ? 

8. Tell of Hawthorne's life at Brook Farm. Wliat 
romance was the result of this experience? What mem- 
ber of the Brook Farm Association was its heroine? 
What do you know of her as an author? 

9. Name some of Hawthorne's most distinguished 
friends. 



"No entertainment is so cheap as reading, nor any 
pleasure so lasting." — Lady Montagu. 



CHAPTER IV. 

SOME EARLY WOMEN NOVELISTS AND 
POETS. 

"Thou who by some celestial clue couldst find 
The way to all the hearts of all mankind, 
On thee, already canonized, enshrined, 
What more can Heaven bestow !" 

Harriet Beecher Stowe. 
Julia Ward Howe. 
Lucy Larcom. 
The Carey Sisters. 
Louisa May Alcott. 
Helen Hunt Jackson. 



''A good book is the precious life-blood of a master 
spirit, embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life 
beyond a Hfe." — Milton. 



HARRIET BEECHER STOWE. 
1812-1896. 

THE NAME of Harriet Beecher Stowe, the illustri- 
ous patriotic author of Uncle Tom's Cabin, is 
known in nearly every home in America and in many on 
the Continent. Few names are more closely intertwined 
with our country's history. "It was the great happiness 
of Mrs. Stowe," says George WilHam Curtis, "not only to 
have written many delightful books, but to have written 
one book which will always be famous not only as the 
most vivid picture of an extinct evil system, but as one 
of the most powerful influences in overthrowing it.... 
If all whom she has charmed and quickened should unite 
to sing her praises, the birds of summer would be out- 
done." 

Harriet Elizabeth Beecher was born nearly a century 
ago in Litchfield, Connecticut, June 14, 1812. She was 
the sixth child of Reverend Lyman Beecher, the great 
head of that great family which has left so deep an im- 
press upon the heart and inind of the American people, 
who at the time of her birth was a poor, struggling Con- 
gregational preacher. The mother died when Harriet 
was but a small child, but she ever retained a loving 
memory of her. Mrs. Beecher was very fond of flowers, 
and a friend once sent her from New York some fine 
tulip bulbs, which were then very rare. The mother 
carefully wrapped them up and put them away until time 
for planting. Some time after, little Harriet came across 

257 



258 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



them, and, mistaking them for onions, carried them to 
her Httle brothers and sisters, who helped to eat them 
all up. 

At the age of five years Harriet entered the Litch- 
field village school. She was very fond of books and 
early showed signs of unusual mental ability. When she 
was eleven years old she entered the seminary at Hart- 
ford, Connecticut, kept by her elder sister, Catherine, and 
four years later was employed as assistant teacher. About 
this time her father married again, and brought home a 
young wife to care for his motherless little ones. Soon 
after this he accepted a call to the presidency of the Lane 
Theological Seminary at Cincinnati and moved his family 
to that place. His daughters, Catherine and Harriet, ac- 
companied them and founded a new seminary, the West- 
ern Female Institute. In 1833 Miss Harriet and one of 
the associate teachers from the seminary. Miss Button, 
crossed the river and visited in Kentucky. For the first 
time Miss Beecher was brought into contact with slav- 
ery, and the estate where they visited afterwards figured 
as Mr. Shelby's in Uncle Tom's Cabin. 

Miss Beecher began her literary career in 1834 when 
her first offering, A New England Story, won fifty dol- 
lars in a prize competition. Two years later, in her 
twenty-fourth year, she became the second wife of Cal- 
vin E. Stowe, one of the professors in the Lane Semi- 
nary, whose first wife had been her intimate friend. They 
were well suited to each other. "Professor Stowe was 
a typical man of letters, — a learned, amiable, unpractical 
philosopher, whose philosophy was like that described by 
Shakspere as 'an excellent horse in the stable, but an 
arrant jade on a journey.' Her practical ability and 



HARRIET BEECHER STOWE 



259 



cheerful, inspiring courage were the unfailing support 
of her husband." For a long time after her marriage, 
money was a very scarce thing in the Stowe home, and 
Mrs. Stowe wrote stories for the magazines to obtain 
money for household expenses. In 1850, Professor 
Stowe accepted a seat in Bowdoin College and moved 
his family to Brunswick, Maine. 

In 185 1, Mrs. Stowe began the publication of Uncle 
Tom's Cabin, as a serial in the Washington National Era. 
She had contemplated a tale of about a dozen chapters, 
but once begun the story could no more be controlled 
than a rudderless ship before the wind, and the serial ran 
for nearly a year. The story excited intense interest; 
from all sides came words of praise and encouragement, 
and eager requests that she keep on with the tale. (It 
had been announced at first to run only about three 
months.) This and the growing conviction that she was 
only the instrument of a Higher Power impelled Mrs. 
Stowe to finish the work. She repeatedly said : 'T could 
not control the story, the Lord himself wrote it. I was 
but an instrument in his hands and to Him should be 
given all the praise." While engaged with the story, she 
indeed wrote as one inspired and could scarcely be in- 
duced to leave her work, often rising from her bed at 
night to pen the words which thronged her brain, dis- 
pelling all thought of sleep. She received $300 for the 
serial right of the story. In the meantime, it had, how- 
ever, attracted the attention of Mr. John Jewett, a Bos- 
ton publisher, who wished to purchase it for publication 
in book form. He offered Mrs. Stowe a half share in 
the profits if she would share with him the expense of 
publication, but the Professor objected, saying that they 



360 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 

were altogether too poor to undertake such a risk, and it 
was finally settled that Mr. Jewett should issue the book, 
paying Mrs. Stowe a ten per cent royalty on all sales. 
The author waited in trepidation ; but her fears lest her 
book should not be a success were soon dispelled. Three 
thousand copies sold the first day ; the publisher issued the 
second edition the next week, and a third edition a few 
days later; in one year over three hundred thousand 
copies had been issued and sold in this country. Almost 
in a day the poor professor's wife became the most talked 
of woman in the world, her influence for good spread to 
the remotest corners ; her long struggle with poverty was 
over, in seeking to aid the oppressed she had aided her- 
self also, and in four months was in receipt of over $io,- 
000 in royalties. Thousands of copies sold in England, 
and it was translated into forty foreign tongues, includ- 
ing Arabic and Armenian. It was dramatized and acted 
in all the leading theaters. 

Uncle Tom's Cabin is the most popular novel ever 
written in America. In its dramatized form it still keeps 
the stage, and statistics from circulating libraries show 
that even yet it is more in demand than any other book. 
*Tt did more than any other literary agency," says Beers, 
''to rouse the public conscience to a sense of the shame 
and horror of slavery ; more even than Garrison's Lib- 
erator; more than the indignant poems of Whittier and 
Lowell or the orations of Sumner and Phillips. It pre- 
sented the thing concretely and dramatically, and in par- 
ticular it made the odious Fugitive Slave Law forever 
impossible to enforce. It was useless for the defenders of 
slavery to protest that the picture was exaggerated, and 
that planters like Legree were the exception. The sys- 



HARRIET BEECHER STOWE 



261 



tern under which such brutalities could happen, and did 
sometimes happen, was doomed." 

In 1852, Professor Stowe was appointed professor of 
Sacred Literature in the Andover Theological Seminary, 
and the family moved to Massachusetts. Mrs. Stowe's 
health was delicate, and in 1853 in company with her 
husband and brother, Henry Ward Beecher, she visited 
England and the continent, where she was everywhere 
received with universal welcome and made many friends 
among distinguished people. On returning home, she 
again took up her pen and for thirty years it was seldom 
idle. In quick succession came The Key to Uncle Tom's 
Cabin; Dred, a Tale of the Dismal Swmnp ; Sunny 
Memories of Foreign Lands; The Minister's Wooing; 
The Pearl of Orr's Island; Agnes of Sorrento; House 
and Home Papers; Little Foxes, Old Town Folks, and 
magazine stories, articles, and sketches almost without 
number. An accomplished critic says : "She has enter- 
tained and inspired a generation born long after the last 
slave was made free, and to whom the great question 
which once convulsed our country is only a name. But 
her first great work has never been surpassed, and it will 
never be forgotten." 

Harriet Beecher Stowe was a true home woman, most 
hospitable and delightfully entertaining. She used to 
say, "Let me once get my feet on the fender and I can 
talk until all the air around me is blue." She was quite 
absent minded in her later years. The story is told that 
she was once invited to visit the daughters of an old 
friend, and, having been delayed, arrived only a few 
minutes before dinner was to be served. She was shown 
at once to her room; the dinner gong sounded, and the 



262 STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITERATURE 



family assembled in the dining-room and awaited their 
guest. Ten, twenty minutes, half an hour elapsed; the 
bell again sounded but the distinguished guest did not 
answer the summons and the now thoroughly alarmed 
hostesses hurried to her room. There was no answer to 
their gentle knocking, and they hastily entered. There 
stood Mrs. Stowe in the center of the room, without even 
her bonnet strings untied, deeply absorbed in a book. 
"O, do forgive me, my dears she cried contritely, glanc- 
ing at each alarmed face. "I hope I have not kept you 
waiting! I found this dear little book here; I have not 
seen a copy for years, and I couldn't resist looking into 
it for a moment!" 

Mrs. Stowe was a devoted mother. She once wrote 
to a friend : 'Tndeed, my dear, I am but a mere drudge, 
with few ideas beyond babies and housekeeping. As for 
thoughts, reflections and sentiments, good lack! good 
lack! yet for all this, my children I would not change 
for all the ease, leisure and pleasure that I could have 
without them !" Mrs. Stowe would hardly have been 
able to accomplish what she did in the way of Hterary 
work, during her children's early years, if she had not 
had a devoted helper to share her cares and responsibili- 
ties. This helper was Anna Smith, who was a member 
of the family for niany years, taking the position of gov- 
erness and almost of second mother to the children, and 
of whom Mrs. Stowe wrote : ''Had it not been for my in- 
separable friend, Anna, a noble-hearted English girl, who 
landed on our shores in destitution and sorrow, and clave 
to me as Ruth to Naomi, I had never lived through all 
the trials which the uncertainty and want of domestic 
service imposed upon both." Though the children 



HARRIET BEECHER STOWE 



263 



learned to go to Miss Anna with their little wants and 
cares, they ever found a delightful companion in their 
mother, who frequently laid aside her work to go for a 
romp with them, to make some warm garment for one 
of the little people, or to help in replenishing the dolls' 
wardrobe. Her daughters carefully preserved a little 
straw bonnet which the busy mother had found time to 
plait, and a gay little scarf which she had crocheted for 
their respective dollies. Mrs. Stowe was a great favor- 
ite with the young people, and counted her girl friends 
by the score. 

After the war, the Stowes lived in Hartford in sum- 
mer, and spent their winters in Florida, where Mrs. 
Stowe purchased a luxurious home. Mrs. Stowe's men- 
tal and physical faculties failed in 1888, and she contin- 
ued in very poor health until her death occurred at her 
home in Hartford, July i, 1896. By her bedside at the 
time were her son. Rev. Chas. E. Stowe, her two daugh- 
ters, Eliza and Harriet; her sister, Isabella Beecher 
Hooker; John Hooker; Doctor Edward B. Hooker, her 
nephew and medical attendant, and other relatives. 'The 
whole reading world was moved at the news of her 
death, and many a chord vibrated at the remembrance of 
her powerful advocacy of the cause of the slave. The 
good which she achieved by Uncle Tom's Cabin can 
never be estimated, and her noble efforts have been in- 
terwoven into the work of the world." 

A PARTIAL LIST OF H. B. STOWE's WRITINGS. 

Uncle Tom's Cabin. Little Foxes. 

Key to Uncle Tom's Agnes of Sorrento. 
Cabin. Old Town Folks. 



264 



STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITEEATURE 



xMy Wife and 1. 
Sunny Memories of For- 
eign Lands. 
The Minister's Wooing. 
House and Home Papers. 



Dred, a Tale of the Dismal 

Swamp. 
The Pearl of Orr's Island. 
Pink and White Tyranny. 



REFERENCES. 

Life and Letters of Harriet Beecher Stowe, Mrs. 
Fields. 

Life of Harriet Beecher Stowe, Charles E. Stowe. 
At the Summit, and The World's Homage, O. W. 
Holmes. 

Authors and Friends, Mrs. Fields. 

QUESTIONS ON HARRIET BEECHER STOWE. 

1. Write a biography of Mrs. Stowe. 

2. Describe her home life. 

3. Which is her best known work? What is the 
theme? Tell of its immense popularity. 

4. Name five of Mrs. Stowe's Books. 

THE LITTLE EVANGELIST. 
(From "Uncle Tom's Cabin/') 

IT WAS Sunday afternoon. St. Clare was stretched 
on a bamboo lounge in the veranda, solacing himself 
with a cigar. Marie lay recHned on a sofa, opposite the 
window opening on the veranda, closely secluded under 
an awning of transparent gauze from the outrages of 
the mosquitoes, and languidly holding in her hand an ele- 
gantl3'-bound prayer-book. She was holding it because 
it was Sunday, and she imagined she had been reading 



HARRIET BEECHER STOWE 



265 



it — though, in fact, she had been only taking a succession 
of short naps with it open in her hand. 

Miss Ophelia, who, after some rummaging, had hunted 
up a small Methodist meeting within riding distance, had 
gone out, with Tom as driver, to attend it, and Eva ac- 
companied them. 

say, Augustine," said Marie, after dozing awhile, 
must send to the city after my old doctor, Posey; I'm 
sure I've got the complaint of the heart." 

"Well, why need you send for him? This doctor that 
attends Eva seems skillful." 

"I would not trust him in a critical case," said Marie, 
"and I think I may say mine is becoming so ! I've been 
thinking of it these two or three nights past ; I have such 
distressing pains and such strange feelings." 

"Oh, Marie, you are blue! I don't believe it's heart, 
complaint." 

"I daresay you don't," said Marie; I was prepared to 
expect that. You can be alarmed enough if Eva coughs, 
or has the least thing the matter with her, but you never 
think of me." 

"If it's particularly agreeable to you to have heart 
disease, why, I'll try and maintain you have it," said St. 
Clare ; "I didn't know it was." 

"Well, I only hope you won't be sorry for this when 
it's too late!" said Marie. "But, believe it or not, my 
distress about Eva, and the exertions I have made with 
that dear child have developed what I have long sus- 
pected." 

What the exertions were which Marie referred to it 
would have been difficult to state. St. Clare quietly made 
this commentary to himself, and went on smoking, like a 



266 STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITERATURE 



hard-hearted wretch of a man as he was, till a carriage 

drove up before the veranda and Eva and Miss Ophelia 
alighted. 

Miss Ophelia marched straight to her own chamber, to 
put away her bonnet and shawl, as was always her man- 
ner, before she spoke a word on any subject; while Eva 
came at St. Clare's call, and was sitting on his knee, giv- 
ing him an account of the services they had heard. 

They soon heard loud exclamations from Miss 
Ophelia's room (which, like the one in which they were 
sitting, opened to the veranda), and violent reproof ad- 
dressed to somebody. 

''What new witchcraft has Tops been brewing?" 
asked St. Clare. 'That commotion is of her raising, I'll 
be bound!" 

And in a moment after Miss Ophelia, in high indigna- 
tion, came dragging the culprit along. 

"Come out here, now !" she said. "I will tell your 
master." 

"What's the case now?" asked Augustine. 

"The case is, that I cannot be plagued with this child 
any longer ! It's past all bearing ; flesh and blood cannot 
endure it! Here, I locked her up, and gave her a 
hymn to study and what does she do but spy out where 
I put my key, and has gone to my bureau and got a 
bonnet-trimming and cut it all to pieces to make dolls' 
jackets ! I never saw anything like it in my life." 

"I told you, cousin," said Marie, "that you'd find 
out that these creatures can't be brought up without 
severity. If I had my way, now," she said, looking re- 
proachfully at St. Clare, "I'd send that child out and 



HARRIET BEECHER STOWE 



267 



have her thoroughly whipped; I'd have her whipped till 
she couldn't stand !" 

"I don't doubt it," said St. Clare. "Tell me of the 
lovely rule of woman ! I never saw above a dozen women 
that wouldn't half kill a horse, or a servant either, if 
they had their own way with them — let alone a man." 

"There is no use in this shilly-shally way of yours, 
St. Clare!" said Marie. "Cousin is a woman of sense, 
and she sees it now as plain as I do." 

Miss Ophelia had just the capability of indignation 
that belongs to the thorough-paced housekeeper, and this 
had been pretty actively roused by the artifice and waste- 
fulness of the child; in fact, many of my lady readers 
must own that they would have felt just so in her cir- 
cumstances, but Marie's words went beyond her, and she 
felt less heat. 

"I wouldn't have the child treated so for the world," 
she said; "but I am sure, Augustine, I don't know what 
to do. I've taught and taught ; I've talked till I'm tired ; 
I've whipped her; I've punished her in every way I can 
think of, and still she's just what she was at first." 

"Come here, To°ps, you monkey!" said St. Clare, call- 
ing the child up to him. 

Topsy came up, her round, hard eyes glittering and 
blinking with a mixture of apprehensiveness and their 
usual odd drollery. 

"What makes you behave so?" said St. Clare, who 
could not help being amused with the child's expression. 

" 'Spects it's my wicked heart," said Topsy, demurely ; 
"Miss Feely says so." 

"Don't you see how much Miss Ophelia has done for 
you ? She says she has done everything she can think of." 



268 STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITERATUEE 

''Lor', yes, mas'r ! Old missis used to say so, too. She 
whipped me a heap harder, and used to pull my ha'r and 
knock my head ag'in the door; but it didn't do me no 
good ! I 'spects if they's to pull every spear o' ha'r out 
o' my head it wouldn't do no good, neither — I's so 
wicked ! Laws ! I's nothin' but a nigger, no ways !" 

''Well, I shall have to give her up," said Miss Ophelia ; 
"I can't have trouble any longer." 

"Well, I'd just like to ask one question," said St. Clare. 

"What is it?" 

"Why, if your Gospel is not strong enough to save 
one heathen child, that you can have at home here^ all 
to yourself, what's the use of sending one or two poor 
missionaries off with it among thousands of just such? 
I suppose this child is about a fair sample of what thou- 
sands of your heathens are." 

Miss Ophelia did not make an immediate answer, and 
Eva, who had stood a silent spectator of the scene thus 
far, made a silent sign to Topsy to follow her. There 
was a little glass-room at the corner of the veranda, 
which St. Clare used as a sort of reading-room, and Eva 
and Topsy disappeared into this place: 

"What's Eva going about now?" said St. Clare; "I 
mean to see." 

And, advancing on tiptoe, he lifted up a curtain that 
covered the glass door and looked in. In a moment, 
laying his finger on his lips, he made a silent gesture to 
Miss Ophelia to come and look. There sat the two chil- 
dren on the floor, with their side faces towards them — 
Topsy with her usual air of careless drollery and uncon- 
cern ; but, opposite to her, Eva, her whole face fervent 
with feeling and tears in her large eyes. 



HARRIET BEECHER STOWE 



269 



"What does make you so bad, Topsy ? Why don't you 
try and be good ? Don't you love anybody, Topsy ?" 

"Dun no nothin' 'bout love ; I loves candy and sich, 
that's all," said Topsy. 

"But you love your father and mother?" 

"Never had none, ye know. I telled ye that, Miss Eva." 

"Oh, I know," said Eva, sadly; "but hadn't you any 
brother, or sister, or aunt, or " 

"No, none on 'em — never had nothing nor nobody." 

"But , Topsy, if you'd only try to be good you 
might " 

"Couldn't never be nothin' but a nigger, if I was ever 
so good," said Topsy. "If I could be skinned and come 
white I'd try then." 

"But people can love you, if you are black, Topsy. 
Miss Ophelia would love you if you were good." 

Topsy gave the short, blunt laugh that was her com- 
mon mode of expressing incredulity. 

"Don't you think so?" said Eva. 

" No ; she can't b'ar me, 'cause I'm a nigger ! she'd 's 
soon have a toad touch her. There can't nobody love 
niggers, and niggers can't do nothin'. I don't care," 
said Topsy, beginning to whistle. 

"Oh, Topsy, poor child, I love you !" said Eva, with 
a sudden burst of feeling, and, laying her little, thin 
white hand on Topsy's shoulder. "I love you because 
you haven't had any father, or mother, or friends — 
because you have been a poor, abused child! I love 
you and I want you to be good. I am very unwell, 
Topsy, and I think I shan't live a great while, and it 
really grieves me to have you be so naughty. I wish 



270 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



you would try to be good for my sake; it's only a little 
while I shall be with you." 

The round, keen eyes of the black child were over- 
cast with tears; large, bright drops rolled heavily down, 
one by one, and fell on the little white hand. Yes, in that 
moment a ray of real belief, a ray of heavenly love, had 
penetrated the darkness of her heathen soul ! She held 
her head down between her knees and wept and sobbed ; 
while the beautiful child, bending over her, looked like 
the picture of some bright angel stooping to reclaim a 
sinner. 

'Toor Topsy!" said Eva; "don't you know that Jesus 
loves all alike? He is just as willing to love you as me. 
He loves you just as I do, only more, because He is bet- 
ter. He will help you to be good, and you can go to 
heaven at last and be an angel forever, just as much 
as if you were white. Only think of it, Topsy, you can 
be one of those 'spirits bright' Uncle Tom sings about. 

"Oh, dear Miss Eva! dear Miss Eva!" said the child; 
*T will try ! I will try ! I never did care nothin' about it 
before." 

St. Clare at this moment dropped the curtain. "It 
puts me in mind of mother," he said to Miss Ophelia. 
"It is true what she told me : if we want to give sight 
to the blind we must be willing to do as Christ did — call 
them to us and put our hands on them." 

"I've always had a prejudice against negroes," said 
Miss Ophelia, "and it's a fact, I never could bear to 
have that child touch me, but I didn't think she knew it." 

"Trust any child to find that out," said St. Clare; 
"there's no keeping it from them. But I believe that all 
the trying in the world to benefit a child, and all the sub- 




JULIA WARD HOWE. 



JULIA WARD HOWE 



271 



stantial favors you can do them, will never excite one 
emotion of gratitude while that feeling of repugnance 
remains in the heart; it's a queer kind of fact, but so 
it is." 

"I don't know how I can help it," said Miss Ophelia ; 
''they are disagreeable to me — this child in particular. 
How can I help feeling so ?" 

"Eva does, it seems." 

''Well, she's so loving! After all, though, she's no 
more than Christ-like," said Miss Ophelia ; "I wish I 
were like her. She might teach me a lesson." 

"It wouldn't be the first time a little child had been 
used to instruct an old disciple, if it were so," said St. 
Clare. 

1. Tell the story of the selection. 

2. Describe the characters. 

3. Contrast Marie and Miss Ophelia. 

4. Read Uncle Tom's Cabin at your leisure. Write 
a review of the book. 

JULIA WARD HOWE. 
1819. 

THIS last survivor, with Edward Everett Hale, of 
that group of noble men and women who distin- 
guished the middle nineteenth century, and who labored 
with voice and pen for the emancipation of the slave and 
the preservation of the Union during the Civil War, has 
given one undying poem to the literature of our lan- 
guage, The Battle Hymn of the Republic. Thomas 
Wentworth Higginson, her friend of many years, says of 



272 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITEEATUEE 

this poem: "Mrs. Howe, like her friend, Dr. Holmes, 
has perhaps had the disappointing experience of concen- 
trating her sure prospects of fame on a single poem. 
What the Chambered Nautilus represents in his pub- 
lished volumes The Battle Hymn of the Republic repre- 
sents for her , . . for the rest of her poems, they 
are rarely quite enough concentrated. They reach our 
ears attractively, but not with positive mastery." 

Julia Ward Howe was born in New York City March 
27, 1 8 19, three days after Queen Victoria. Her parents 
were Samuel and Julia Rush (Cutler) Ward. At the 
age of twenty-four she married Dr. Samuel Gridly Howe, 
and together they soon visited Europe, where the oldest 
of their five children was born. She has frequently re- 
turned to Europe, and is an accomplished linguist. The 
near friends of Mrs. Howe were those whose names are 
forever connected with the highest thought and inspira- 
tion of our country during one of its most vital epochs. 
They were Garrison, Phillips, James Freeman Clarke, 
Oliver Wendell Holmes, besides many others distin- 
guished at home and abroad. 

For many years the home was in Newport, then, as 
now, the fashionable center. Later the Howes moved to 
Boston. At her home in both cities used to meet not 
only the rich and fashionable, but the intellectual, philan- 
thropic or the unfortunate who had claims on her ever- 
ready sympathy. She wrote much — poetry, essays, travel 
memories — and with all this brilliant life she remained 
an admirable and careful mother, the companion, confi- 
dant and friend, as well as the guide, to her children. 
In them she has been more than ordinarily blest — all are 
distinguished; her daughters are authors of merit and 



JULIA WAED HOWE 



273 



charm, her only son is a mining engineer, with. high rep- 
utation in his profession. 

Mrs. Howe tells in her most interesting Reminiscences 
the circumstances under which The Battle Hymn was 
written during the war ; some friends had urged her to 
write some words for the stirring tune of "John Brown's 
Body" which should be more worthy of it, and she 
tells us : 

I awoke in tiie gray of the morning twilight and as I lay wait- 
ing for dawn the long lines of the desired poem began to twine 
themselves in my mind. Having thought out all the stanzas I 
said to myself : "1 must get up and write these verses down, lest 
I fall asleep again and forget them, ' ' So with a sudden effort I 
sprang out of bed, and found in the dimness an old stump of a 
pen which I remembered to have used the day before. I scrawled 
the verses almost without looking at the paper. I had learned 
to do this when on previous occasions attacks of versificatioii 
had visited me in the night and I feared to have recourse to a 
light lest I should wake the baby who slept near me. I was 
obliged to decipher my scrawl before another night intervened, 
as it was legible only while the matter was fresh in my mind. 

The song was sung by soldiers on the march and in 
camp, by captives in the Libby prison, when they gleaned 
news of Union victories ; in short, became one of the 
leading war lyrics. One of her friends said: "Mrs. 
Howe ought to die now, for she has done the best she 
will ever do." While the last dictum may be admitted as 
true, Mrs. Howe has since that inspired moment written 
and done much for the good and delight of humanity, 
and today is loved and venerated by three generations. 
On her eighty-sixth birthday in May 1905, there was a 
meeting of the members of the Boston Authors' Club, 
where she received verse tribute from over sixty authors. 



274 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



These were limited to four lines, and many were beautiful 
as well as loving tokens. One of the most beautiful, that 
by Frederick Lawrence Knowles, reads : 

Lady who lovest and who livest Peace, 

And yet didst write earth's noblest battle song 

At Freedom ^s bidding — may thy fame increase 
Till dawns the warless age for which we long. 

Mrs. Howe replied with some cheery verses, of which 
these are the two last : 

Yes, I've had a lot of birthdays and I'm growing very old; 
That 's why they make so much of me, if once the truth were told ; 
And I love the shade in summer, and in winter love the sun 
And I'm just learning how to live, my wisdom's just begun. 

Don't trouble more to celebrate this natal day of mine, 
But keep the grasp of fellowship which warms us more than wine. 
Let us thank the lavish hand that gives world beauty to our eyes, 
And bless the days that saw us young, and years that make us 
wise. 

A PARTIAL LIST OF MRS. HOWE's WORKS. 

Later Lyrics. Modern Society. 

From Sunset Ridge. Reminiscences. — Atlantic 

Miscellaneous Essays and Monthly. 
Lectures. 

QUESTIONS ON MRS. HOWE. 

1. Write a biography of Mrs. Howe. 

2. Describe her life. 

3. Who were her friends ? 

4. What is her best known poem ? 

5. Under what circumstances was it written? 



JULIA WAED HOWE • 275 

BATTLE HYMN OF THE EEPUBLIC. 

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord : 
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of 

wrath are stored ; 
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift 

sword : 
His truth is marching on. 

I have seen him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling 
camps ; 

They have builded him an altar in the evenings dews 
and damps ; 

I can read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaring 
lamps : 
His day is marching on. 

I have read a fiery gospel, writ in burnished rows of steel : 
"As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace 
shall deal ; 

Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his 
heel. 

Since God is marching on." 

He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call 
retreat ; 

He is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment 
seat : 

Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer him! be jubilant, my 
feet ! 

Our God is marching on. 

In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, 



276 STOBIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me ; 
As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free, 
While God is marching on. 

LUCY LARCOM. 
I 826- I 893. 
"The Working Girl's Friend." 

LUCY Larcom has lovingly been called the friend 
of working women. "She came from among them, 
had shared their toils, and the burning and consuming 
impulse of her life was to better their condition. In this, 
she imitated the spirit of Him, who, being lifted up, 
would draw all men after Him." She delighted and en- 
couraged her readers with both prose and poetry, and 
her charming simplicity and faithful portraitures won 
for her an honored place among the women writers of 
America. Many a poor mill girl owed her desire for bet- 
ter things and her subsequent advancement in life to the 
inspirational writings and noble example of Miss Lar- 
com, who, having been a mill girl herself for so many 
years, well knew how best to teach and lead them. 

Lucy Larcom was born in Beverly, Massachusetts, in 
1826. Her father, a ship captain, died when she was a 
child, and her mother moved her family of children to 
Lowell, Massachusetts. Lucy entered the public schools, 
and showed a remarkable ability for writing verses at 
the early age of ten years. While yet in her teens she 
left school and entered the cotton mills in order to help 
her struggling mother to support the family. "My first 
work," says she, "was doffing and replacing the bobbins 
in the machine. Next, I entered the spinning-room, then 



LUCY LARCOM 



277 



the dressing-room, where I had a place beside pleasant 
windows looking toward the river. Later I was pro- 
moted to the cloth-room, where I had fewer hours of 
confinement, without the noisy machinery, and it was 
altogether neater.' Miss Larcom worked for eight years 
in the cotton mills, but she had so used her spare moments 
that during the last two years she was able to hold the 
position of bookkeeper. This, of course, gave her a bet- 
ter salary and more leisure time, which she wisely 
devoted to studies in mathematics, grammar, and Eng- 
lish and German literature. After leaving the mills Miss 
Larcom attended a seminary at Monticello, Illinois, and 
later taught in some of the leading female schools of 
her native state. 

Lucy Larcom's first published contribution was a lit- 
tle poem entitled The River, which appeared in Offering, 
a magazine published by the female operatives of the 
Lowell mills. This paper afterwards published many of 
her poems and essays, and her first volume, Similtitudes, 
was compiled from essays which had originally appeared 
in Offering. Of her early poems Hannah Binding Shoes 
is probably the best known. It first appeared anony- 
mously in the Atlantic Monthly when James Russell 
Lowell was editor, and excited considerable comment. 
There was so much merit in the lines that several attrib- 
uted them to Emerson. Lowell and Whittier, to whose 
paper she was also a contributor, praised her poetic abil- 
ities very highly. 

Her second book, Ships in the Mist and Other Stories, 
appeared in 1859. It was followed seven years later by 
Breathings of a Better Life. In 1866 Miss Larcom was 
engaged as editor of Our Young Folks, a position which 



278 • STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 

she filled for eight years. In 1875 she issued An Idyl of 
Work, a Story in Verse. Five years later Wild Roses 
of Cape Ann and Other Poems was published, and in 
1881 Among Lowell Mill Girls appeared. Lucy Larcom's 
later works assumed a deeply religious character in which 
the faith of her whole Hfe finds expression. Among the 
books which show her maturest thought on matters con- 
cerning the spiritual life may be mentioned Beckonings, 
As It Is in Heaven, and The Unseen Friend. 

Lucy Larcom was an excellent talker, and when enthu- 
siastically engaged in discourse was apt to forget every- 
thing else. She and John Greenleaf Whittier were warm 
friends. One day while out walking they drew near a 
bench where two ladies were seated staring quizzically 
at them. Miss Larcom, deep in her subject, did not notice 
them, but Whittier, always shy and reserved, objected to 
such close scrutiny. "Would thee mind, friend Lucy," 
he exclaimed, hastily interrupting his companion's logical 
flow of words. "Would thee kindly turn thy umbrella a 
trifle more this way? That is better, I thank thee," as 
Miss Larcom mechanically obeyed his suggestion without 
pausing in her discourse. After a time Miss Larcom, 
perceiving that her friend was tardy in his replies, turned 
to find him much amused, and then noticed that she was 
carrying her umbrella directly opposite the sun which 
was taking the opportunity to beat his fiery rays upon 
her. "Whatever made you tell me to turn my umbrella 
that way?" she demanded in surprise. "Did thee not 
notice, friend Lucy," replied the distinguished poet, "that 
we just passed two very inquisitive women. By their 
curious, searching glances methinks they must have heard 
of thy poems, Lucy." "My poems !" cried Miss Lucy, 



LUCY LAECOM 



279 



gazing at him in surprise, a smile rippling over her 
speaking face. ''My poems T Yes, my poems, indeed!" 
breaking into a hearty laugh. 

At another time Miss Larcom and a friend were call- 
ing upon Whittier at his home. Referring to a subject 
they had just been discussing, Mr. Whittier turned to the 
poetess, "That is a good scene for a poem. Dost thee 
know it, friend Lucy? I've half a mind to write one." 

Yes," returned Miss Larcom quietly, 'I do, and I 
have already written the poem." 

"Thee has!" cried Mr. Whittier m astonishment, play- 
fully shaking his forefinger at her. "Thee has! Ah, 
thou art always getting ahead of me, friend Lucy !" 

MEMORY GEMS FROM LUCY LARCOM. 

Life it means, this impulse high 
Which through every leaflet stirs. 

Lo ! the sunshine and the sky 
She was made for now are hers ! 

Soul, thou too art set in earth, 

Heavenward through the dark to grow ; 

Dreamest thou of thy royal birth? 
Climb ! and thou shalt surely know. 

How will it be when the woods turn brown, 
Their gold and crimson all dropped down 
And crumbled to dust? Oh, then, as we lay 
Our ear to earth's lips we shall hear her say, 
In the dark I am seeking new gems for my crown ; 
We will dream of green leaves when the woods turn 
brown, 



280 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 

For the earth, and all its beauty; 

The sky, and all its light ! 
For the dim and soothing shadows 

That rest the dazzled sight; 
For unfading fields and prairies, 

Where sense in vain has trod ; 
For the world's exhaustless beauty, 

I thank Thee, O my God. 

He who plants a tree, 
He plants love; 

Tents of coolness spreading out above 
Wayfarers he may not live to see. 

Gifts that grow are best; 

Hands that bless are blest; 

Plant ; Life does the rest ! 
Heaven and earth help him who plants a tree 
And his work its own reward shall be. 

SUGGESTED LIST OF MISS LARCOm's POEMS FOR READING. 

The Rose Enthroned. The Lily of the Resurrec- 

A Thanksgiving Hymn. tion. 

The River. The Little Brown Thrush. 

HANNAH BINDING SHOES. 
Poor lone Hannah, 
Sitting at the window binding shoes! 

Faded, wrinkled, 
Sitting stitching, in a mournful muse! 
Bright-eyed beauty once was she. 
When the bloom was on the tree : 
Spring and winter 
Hannah's at the window binding shoes. 



m 



LUCY LAECOM 



Not a neighbor 
Passing nod or answer will refuse 

To her whisper, 
"Is there from the fishers any news?" 
Oh, her heart's adrift with one 
On an endless voyage gone! 
Night and morning 
Hannah's at the window binding shoes. 

Fair young Hannah 
Ben, the sunburnt fisher, gayly woos; 

Hale and clever. 
For a willing heart and hand he sues. 
May-day skies are all aglow. 
And the waves are laughing so! 
For the wedding 
Hannah leaves her window and her shoes. 

May is passing: 
Mid the apple boughs a pigeon coos. 

Hannah shudders, 
For the mild south-wester mischief brews. 
Round the rocks of Marblehead, 
Outward bound, a schooner sped: 
Silent, lonesome, 
Hannah's at the window binding shoes. 

'Tis November. 
Now no tear her wasted cheek bedews. 

From Newfoundland 
Not a sail returning will she lose, 
Whispering hoarsely, ''Fisherman, 



282 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



Have you, have you heard of Ben?" 
Old with watching, 
Hannah's at the window binding shoes. 

Twenty winters * 
Bleach and tear the ragged shore she views. 

Twenty seasons ; — 
Never has one brought her any news. 
Still her dim eyes silently 
Chase the white sail o'er the sea: 
Hopeless, faithless, 
Hannah's at the window binding shoes. 

DIRECTIONS FOR STUDY. 

I. Tell the story in your own words, 
n. Describe Hannah. Picture Ben. 
HI. Amplify the poem, making a complete story. Select 

a title for your composition. 
IV. Imagine that Ben at last returned. Describe the 
scene. If possible, do this in poetry. More 
verses may be added or an entirely new poem 
may be written. 

QUESTIONS ON MISS LARCOM. I 

1. Sketch Miss Larcom's life. 

2. Name three of her books. Four popular poems. 

3. Give two quotations. 

4. Which one of her poems do you like best? Why? 

5. What is the theme of most of Miss Larcom's 
poems. 

6. What class of people did she strive to help? 

7. By what sobriquet is Miss Larcom known? 



THE CAEY SISTEES 



283 



THE GARY SISTERS. 

1820. 
1824-1871. 

ALICE Cary^ 'The Sweet Singer," and her sister 
Phoebe were so united in life that it is difficult to 
treat of them separately. Their work began about the 
same time and practically ended at the same time. Prob- 
ably few authors have begun literary labors in an atmos- 
phere or in circumstances more disadvantageous. Their 
father was a pioneer among the wild hills eight miles 
north of Cincinnati, and the sisters early learned to share 
in the farm labors. Notwithstanding all this, Clovernook 
farm was a very happy place, ever the dearest spot on 
earth to the sisters. In her poem, The Old Homestead, 
AHce Gary says: 

When first the skies grow warm and bright, 

And fill with light the hours, 
And in her pale, faint robes the Spring 

Is calling up the flowers, — 
When children with unslippered feet. 

Go forth with hearts of glee, 
To the straight and even furrows 

Where the yellow com must be, — 
What a beautiful embodiment 

Of ease, devoid of pride. 
Is the good, old-fashioned homestead. 

With the doors still open wide. 

Alice Gary was born at the Glovernook farm, near Mt. 
Healthy, Ohio, April 26, 1820. She was the eldest of 
seven children. Her sister Phoebe was four years the 
younger. A brother, Warren, was the only one of the 



384 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



large family of children, besides the sisters, who lived to 
reach maturity. In her touchingly beautiful poem, Pic- 
tures of Memory, Alice Gary tells of the death of one of 
her young brothers : 

I once had a little brother 

With eyes that were dark and deep — 
In the lap of that dim old forest 

He lieth in peace asleep. 

* * * * 

Sweetly his pale arm folded 

My neck in meek embrace 
As the light of immortal beauty 

Silently covered his face; 

And when the arrows of sunset 

Lodged in the tree-tops bright, 
He fell, in his saint-like beauty. 

Asleep by the gates of light. 

We read of the gentle, loving mother who made the 
light of the Gary home in An Order for a Picture. And 
again, in The Dying Mother, we are told how she pre- 
ceded her dear ones to the golden shore : 

We were weeping round her pillow, 

For we knew that she must diej 
It was night within our bosoms 

It was night within the sky. 
There were seven of us children, 

I the eldest one of all, 
And I tried to whisper comfort, 

But the blinding tears would fall. 

* * * * » 

Then the glory bound her forehead, 

Like the glory of a crown, 
And in the silent sea of death 

The star of life went down. 



THE GARY SISTERS 



285 



In speaking of the broken household, Alice Gary says : 

Vainly, vainly memory seeks, 

Round our father's knee, 
Laughing eyes and rosy cheeks, 

Where they used to be; 
Of the circle once so wide. 

Three are wanderers, four have died. 

Alice and Phoebe pursued their studies at home to- 
gether ; when eighteen years of age, Alice began to write 
poems and sketches of rural life under the noni de plume 
of 'Tatty Lee." These poems attracted considerable 
attention and displayed an ability which elicited encour- 
agement from the editors of the periodicals to which she 
contributed. For ten years she contributed both prose 
and verse to the press. In the meantime, her sister 
Phoebe, following in her lead, had begun to write, with 
encouraging success. In 1850, the sisters together issued 
their first volume of poems, entitled Poems of Alice and 
Phoebe Cary. This was followed tne next year by a 
volume of prose sketches under the title Clovernook, in 
which Alice skillfully narrated recollections of their fron- 
tier life and "western" neighbors. In 1852, the sisters 
removed to New York, where they might devote them- 
selves entirely to literary work. They made this city 
their home for the remainder of their lives, returning 
occasionally to the old homestead at Clovernook to visit 
their brother Warren, and recuperate their strength 
among the old familiar scenes. They earned by their 
sweet, womanly pens sufficient for all their needs ; they 
gave freely to charity, and gathered a fine library of 
standard works. For a number of years they held weekly 



286 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



receptions which were attended by all the leading literary 
and artistic people of New York City. 

In 1853, Alice Gary issued a second edition of her 
Clovernook Papers, and two years later gleaned the same 
field for the benefit of her youthful readers in a volume 
entitled Clovernook Children. From 1852 to 1855, she 
also published Lyre and Other Poems, Ha gar, Married 
Not Mated, and Hollyzvood, a collection of poems. In 
1866, she issued her Ballads, Lyrics, and Hymns, a 
standard selection of her poetry which contains some of 
the sweetest minor poems in the language. The last of 
the works published during her lifetime, The Lovers 
Diary, appeared in 1868. After her death two volumes 
of uncollected poems were published. She also left the 
MS, of a completed novel. Of Alice Gary's shorter 
poems, the universal favorites are An Order for a 
Picture, Life's Angels, Nobility, and Pictures of Memory. 

In 1854, Phoebe Gary published Poems and Parodies. 
This was followed in 1859 by Pictures of Country Life, 
a series of tales, and The Bishop's Son, a novel. Snow^ 
berries, a book for young people, appeared in 1867, and 
the following year Poems of Faith, Hope and Love were 
collected and issued. The next year she aided her pastor, 
Rev. G. F. Deems, in editing Hymns for All Christians. 
Like her sister, she, too, left enough uncollected poems to 
add two volumes to her works after her death. 

A certain critic, whose name we wish we knew in order 
to give him credit, says : 'Tn comparing the two sisters, 
it is noticeable that the poems of Alice are more thought- 
ful and more melodiously expressed. They are also 
marked with a stronger originality and a more vivid 
imagination. In disposition, Alice was pensive and ten- 



THE GARY SISTERS 



287 



der, while Phoebe was witty and gay. Alice was stronger 
in energy and patience and bore the chief responsibility 
of their household, allowing her sister, who was less 
passive and feminine in temperament, to consult her 
moods in writing. The disparity in the actual intel- 
lectual productions of the two sisters in the same number 
of years is the result not so much of the mental ine- 
quality as of the superior energy, industry, and patience 
of the elder." 

The two sisters ever treated each other with consider- 
ate love and delicacy. They were one in spirit through 
life, and in death were not long separated. Alice died 
at her New York home February 12, 1871, in her fifty- 
first year. ''Her funeral was held in the Church of the 
Stranger, the service being conducted by her old friend, 
Dr. Charles F. Deems. The little church was filled 
with literary friends who had grown warmly attached to 
the sisters during their twenty years' residence in New 
York. The body was laid to rest in Greenwood Ceme- 
tery, the snow falling heavily and covering all things 
with a pure white shroud." 

Phoebe never ceased to sorrow for her beloved sister. 
The touchingly beautiful verses. Light, are addressed to 
her. She said one day to a friend, ''When Alice was here 
she always absorbed me, and she absorbs me still. I feel 
her constantly drawing me." And so it seemed in reality, 
for six months after Alice had passed away, Phoebe died 
at Newport, Rhode Island. She was laid to rest beside 
her sister. She will ever be remembered by her im- 
mortal hymn. Nearer Home, beginning: "One sweetly 
solemn thought." 

Alice Gary has frequently been called "the Jean Inge- 



288 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATUEE 



low of America." "The influence which Alice and Phoebe 
Gary left behind them, embalmed in their hymns of 
praiseful worship, their songs of love and of noblest 
sentiment, and their stories of happy childhood and inno- 
cent manhood and womanhood, will long remain to bless 
the earth and constitute a continual incense to their 
memory." 

But not for her has spring renewed 
The sweet surprises of the wood; 
And bird and flower are lost to her 

Who was their best interpreter! 

****** 

O white soul! from that far-off shore 
Float some sweet song the waters o'er, 
Our faith confirm, our fears dispel. 
With the old voice we loved so well ! 

— Whittier: The Singer. 

MEMORY GEMS FROM THE GARY SISTERS. 

From Alice Cary. 

We get back our mete as we measure — 

We cannot do wrong and feel right, 
Nor can we give pain and gain pleasure, 

For justice avenges each slight. 
The air for the wing of the sparrow. 

The bush for the robin and wren. 
But alway the path that is narrow 

And straight, for the children of men. 

■ — Nobility. 

Life has its angels, though unkept 
The lovelight which their beauty brings. 



THE CAEY SISTERS 



389 



And though the blue heavens are not swept 
With the white radiance of their wings. 

— Life's Angels. 

But whether the brooks be fringed with flowers, 

Or whether the dead leaves fall, 
And whether the air be full of songs, 

Or never a song at all. 
And whether the vines of the strawberries 

Or frosts through the grasses run, 
And whether it rain or whether it shine 

Is all to me as one, 
For bright as brightest sunshine 
The light of memory streams 
Round the old-fashioned homestead. 
Where I dreamed my dream of dreams! 

— The Old Homestead. 
True worth is in being, not seeming, — 

In doing each day that goes by 
Some little good — not in dreaming 
Of great things to do by and by. 
For whatever men say in blindness. 
And spite of the fancies of youth, 
There's nothing so kingly as kindness, 
And nothing so royal as truth. 

— Nobility. 

From Phoebe Cory. 

All that's great and good is done 
Just by patient trying. 

He who seeks to pluck the stars 
Will lose the jewels at his feet. 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERAT-URE 



There's many a battle fought daily 

The world knows nothing about; 
There's many a brave little soldier 

Whose strength puts a legion to rout. 
And he who fights sin, single-handed, 

Is more of a hero, I say, 
Than he who leads soldiers to battle. 

And conquers by arms in the fray. 

Our homestead had an ample hearth, 

Where at night we loved to meet; 
There my mother's voice was always kind, 

And her smile was always sweet; 
And there I've sat on my father's knee. 

And watched his thoughtful brow. 
With my childish hands in his raven hair, — 

That hair is silvered now ! 
But that broad hearth's light, oh that broad 
hearth's light! 

And my father's look, and my mother's smile, 
They are in my heart tonight! 

— Our Homestead. 

Here's a hand to the boy who has courage 

To do what he knows to be right ; 
When he falls in the way of temptation 

He has a hard battle to fight. 
Who strives against self and his comrades, 

Will find a most powerful foe ; 
All honor to him if he conquers, 

A cheer for the boy who says "No I" 

— Owr Heroes. 



THE CAEY SISTEES 



AN OEDER FOE A PICTUEE. 

O good painter ! tell me true, 

Has your hand the cunning to draw 
Shapes of things that you never saw ? 

Ay? Well^ here is an order for you. 

Woods and cornfields, a little brown — 
The picture must not be over-bright — 
Yet all in the golden and gracious Hght 

Of a cloud, when the summer sun is down. 

Alway and alway, night and morn, 
Woods upon woods, with fields of corn 

Lying between them, not quite sere. 
And not in the full, thick, leafy bloom, 
When the wind can hardly find breathing room 

Under their tassels ; cattle near, 
Biting shorter the short green grass, 
And a hedge of sumac and sassafras, 
With blue birds twittering all around — 
(Ah, good painter, you can't paint sound!) — 

These, and the house where I was born. 
Low and little, and black and old, 
With children, many as it can hold, 
All at the windows, open wide — 
Heads and shoulders clear outside, 
And fair young faces all a-blush : 

Perhaps you may have seen, some day, 

Roses crowding the selfsame way. 
Out of a wilding wayside bush. 

Listen closer. When you have done 

With woods and cornfields and grazing herds. 



292 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITEEATTJRE 



A lady the loveliest ever the sun 

Looked down upon, you must paint for me. 

Oh, if I could only make you see 

The clear blue eyes^ the tender smile, 
The sovereign sweetness, the gentle grace, 
The woman's soul, and the angel's face 

That are beaming on me all the while ! — 
I need not speak these foolish words : 

Yet one word tells you all I would say — 
She is my mother : you will agree 

That all the rest may be thrown away. 

Two little urchins at her knee 
You must paint, sir : one like me — 

The other with a clearer brow, 

And the light of his adventurous eyes 

Flashing with boldest enterprise : 
At ten years old he went to sea — 

God knoweth if he be living now — 

He sailed in the good ship Commodore : 
Nobody ever crossed her track 
To bring us news, and she never came back. 

Ah, 'tis twenty long years and more 
Since that old ship went out of the bay 

With my great-hearted brother on her deck ; 

I watched him till he shrank to a speck, 
And his face was toward me all the way. 
Bright his hair was, a golden brown, 

The time we stood at our mother's knee : 
That beauteous head, if it did go down. 

Carried sunshine into the sea! 

Out in the fields one summer night 



THE GARY SISTEES 



293 



We were together, half afraid 
Of the corn-leaves' rustling, and of the shade 
Of the high hills stretching so still and far — 



Afraid to go home, sir ; for one of us bore 

A nest full of speckled and thin-shelled eggs — 

The other, a bird, held fast by the legs. 
Not so big as a straw of wheat, 
The berries we gave her she wouldn't eat, 

But cried and cried, till we held her bill, 

So slim and shining, to keep her still. 

At last we stood at our mother's knee. 

Do you think, sir, if you try. 

You can paint the look of a lie? 

If you can, pray have the grace 

To put it solely in the face 
Of the urchin that is likest me : 

I think 'twas solely mine, indeed: 

But that's no matter — paint it so ; 

The eyes of our mother (take good heed) 

Looking not on the nestful of eggs. 

Nor the fluttering bird, held so fast by the legs, 
But straight through our faces down to our lies, 
And oh, with such injured, reproachful surprise ! 

I felt my heart bleed where that glance went, as 
though 

A sharp blade struck through it. 



* 




That you on the canvas are to repeat 
Things that are fairest, things most sweet- 
Woods and cornfields and mulberry tree — 



You, sir, know, 



294 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



The mother — the lads, with their bird, at her knee : ®' 

But, oh, that look of reproachful woe ! 
High as the heavens your name I'll shout, 
If you paint me the picture, and leave that out. 

— Alice Cary. 

I. Tell the story in your own words. 
II. Describe Clovernook. Stanza three. 

III. Describe Mrs. Gary. Stanza four. 

IV. Describe the children at the mother's knee. Which 

one told the lie? What do you imagine it was? 
V. Describe the picture which the painter was to paint. 
VI. Make an amplification of the poem. 

Note. — An Order for a Picture has been conceded to 
be one of the finest descriptive poems in the language. 

NEARER HOME. 
One sweetly solemn thought 

Comes to me o'er and o'er; 
I'm nearer my home to-day 

Than I ever have been before; 

Nearer my Father's house, 

Where the many mansions be; 

Nearer the great white throne. 
Nearer the crystal sea; 

Nearer the bound of life, 

Where we lay our burdens down; 

Nearer leaving the cross, 
Nearer gaining the crown : 

But the waves of that silent sea 
Roll dark before my sight 




LOUISA M. ALCOTT. 



THE GARY SISTERS 



295 



That brightly the other side 
Break on a shore of light. 

O, if my mortal feet 

Have almost gained the brink; 

If it be I am nearer home 
Even to-day than I think, — 

Father, perfect my trust! 

Let my spirit feel, in death, 
That her feet are firmly set 

On the Rock of a living faith ! 

— Phoebe Cary. 

QUESTIONS ON THE CARY SISTERS. 

1. Tell the story of their life. 

2. Name two volumes from each. Quote two pas- 
sages from each. Name two poems. 

3. Describe their early farm home. 

4. Of what nature are most of their poems? 

5. Name some distinguished friends of the Cary 
sisters. 

6. Compare the two sisters. 

7. Which of their poems do you like best ? Why ? 

8. What sobriquets have been given to Alice Cary? 



LOUISA MAY ALCOTT. 
1832-1888. 

THE FAMOUS author of Little Men, Little Women, 
Old Fashioned Girls, etc., who endeared herself to 
millions of boys and girls, won her way to fame and for- 
tune solely by her own efforts. For many years the 



296 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATTJRE 



Alcott family depended almost entirely upon Louisa for 
their support, but she loved them all so dearly that they 
were never a burden. Indeed the chief aim of Miss 
Alcott's life was to make others happy. 

Louisa May Alcott was born in Germantown, Penn- 
sylvania, November 29, 1832. Her father, . Bronson 
Alcott, was a jiative of Connecticut, but in early life he 
was set adrift to care for himself, and, at the time of 
Louisa's birth, he was principal of an academy in Ger- 
mantown. When she was two years old he removed his 
family to Boston, and later joined in the Brook Farm 
experiment, which resulted in his entire financial ruin. 
He then removed to Concord, where he resided until his 
death. Of these Concord days. Miss Alcott later wrote, 
"They were among the happiest of my life, for we had 
charming playmates in the little Emersons, Channings, 
and Hawthornes, with their illustrious parents, to enjoy 
our pranks and join our excursions." 

Miss Alcott's mother was a Boston lady of great cul- 
ture and beauty. She was almost idolized by the four 
daughters whom she so gently guided and ruled. Some 
idea may be formed of her from the rules with which 
she governed herself and her family: "Love yourself." 
"Love your neighbor." "Do the duty which lies nearest 
you." Of her Miss Alcott wrote : "This dear mother, 
whose story reads like one of the lives of the saints, who 
never was so poor that she had not somiCthing to give, 
and who was herself the guide and teacher of her chil- 
dren, not in books alone, but in everything that was 
lovely and noble and of good report." "Marmee" was 
the pet name which her daughters gave to her, and her 
wise influences are found in all of Miss Alcott's books. 



LOUISA MAY ALCOTT 



297 



Mr. and Mrs. Alcott shared in the responsibility of 
educating their daughters. At an early age Louisa 
showed promise of becoming a writer, and, when her 
father failed at Brook Farm, she, then a mere child, 
formed the noble purpose of retrieving the family for- 
tune. When sixteen years of age, she wrote a small vol- 
ume, Flower Fables, which was published in later years. 
About this time she began her work as a teacher, which 
occupation she followed for nearly fifteen years. The 
first money which she received for her composition came 
to her in her nineteenth year when a magazine accepted 
a short story. During the years since her first produc- 
tion, such friends as Emerson, Thoreau, Hawthorne, and 
others of the Brook Farm had been guiding her studies 
and encouraging her to write. Her first book, Fairy 
Tales, was published in 1855. At this time, too, her 
work began to be accepted by the Atlantic Monthly and 
other well known magazines. During the civil war, in 
the winters of 1862-3, she volunteered as a hospital 
nurse, but her health failed her, and she was forced to 
return home. The scenes of suffering and hospital inci- 
dents gave her the material for her second book. It 
was first embodied in a series of graphic letters to her 
mother and sister, which were revised and printed in the 
Boston Common'Wealth, and finally collected and issued 
in one volume, entitled Hospital Sketches and Camp- 
Fire Stories. 

Being naturally fond of young people, Miss Alcott 
turned her attention from this time forward to writing 
for them. Briefly speaking, her published works ap- 
peared as follows : — Moods ( 1864) ; Morning Glories 
(1867); Little Women (1868), which was her first de- 



298 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 

cided success ; An Old Fashioned Girl ( 1869) ; Little 
Men (1871) ; Work (1873) ; Eight Cousins (1875), and 
its sequel, Rose in Bloom (1877), some critics consider 
this story the best of all her work; Under the Lilacs 
(1878); Jack and Jill (1880); and Lulu's Library 
(1885). This was in three volumes and was written 
from stories which Miss Alcott used to tell her little 
orphaned niece, of whom she was very fond. Besides 
these books, she issued at different times collections of 
short stories, among which are the six volumes of Aunt 
Jo's Scrap Bag, Silver Pitchers, and Cupid and Chow- 
Chow. 

All of Miss Alcott's characters are very natural. The 
best of them have tempers to trouble them, as well as 
good qualities to make them beloved by the reader. She 
once said when questioned regarding her methods of 
work : 'T have no special methods, except to use the 
simplest language, take every day life and make it inter- 
esting, and try to have my characters alive. I take my 
heroines and heroes from real life, and much truer they 
are than any I can imagine." The characters in Little 
Women are found in the Alcott family and their neigh- 
bors. Jo, who was always ready for a lark with Laurie, 
or the other girls, is the author herself. Meg, Beth, and 
Amy were skillful character drawings of Miss Alcott's 
sisters. Other characters, we imagine, are those known 
in ''Concord History," for here and there are traits of 
men and women not unknown to fame. In Little Men, 
the author made good use of her father's methods of 
teaching the young. Professor Bhaer gets many of his 
fine characteristics from Mr. Alcott, and the school at 



LOUISA MAY ALCOTT 



299 



Plumfield much resembled the school kept by him in 
Germantown. 

Miss Alcott delighted to make others happy, and as a 
consequence she had a vast number of persons for her 
friends, especially among the young people. Aspiring 
girls all over the land wrote to her as freely as to a 
foster mother for advice and counsel. Only a short time 
before her death, when she was far from well and bur- 
dened with a multitude of cares, she wrote to one of 
these girls, whom she had never seen, ''Write freely to 
me, dear girl, and if I can help you in any way be sure 
I will." She always recommended a study of Emerson 
to the young friends who sought her advice in literary 
progress. To a struggling young writer, who had asked 
her help, she wrote : "I am sending you Emerson's 
Essays. Read those marked. I hope they will be as 
helpful to you as they have been to me and many others. 
They will bear study and I think are what you need to 
feed upon now." The marked essays were those on 
Friendship, Love, Heroism, Self -Reliance, and Compen- 
sation. 

Louisa May Alcott died in Boston, March 6, 1888, at 
the age of fifty-six. Her aged father, who had been an 
invalid dependent on her care for many years, passed 
away just two days before at the ripe old age of eighty- 
five. Miss Alcott was, no doubt, a victim of overwork. 
She was a great advocate of work for the health, but 
she did not practice her teachings, and fell a prey to 
nervous prostration. It is said that she frequently gave 
from twelve to fifteen hours a day to her literary labors, 
besides looking after her business affairs, caring person- 
ally for her old father, and for many years mothering 



300 STUDIES IN AMEHICAN LITERATTJEE 



her orphan niece, Lulu. Miss Alcott was buried in the 
old Sleepy Hollow Cemetery of Concord, Mass., not far 
from the grave of her distinguished friend, Ralph Waldo 
Emerson. 

Louise Chandler Moulton, a personal friend of Miss 
Alcott, says of her: "She possessed many admirable 
traits of character, and her books contained many inci- 
dents of her own life and experience. She was, as a 
rule, quiet and reserved, I think, although she would 
occasionally be the gayest one in the company." 

SUGGESTED WRITINGS FOR READING AND STUDY. 

Little Men, Little Women, Eight Cousins, Rose in 
Bloom. 

QUESTIONS ON MISS ALCOTT. 

1. Write a biography of Louisa May Alcott. 

2. Name five of her books. Which is her most 
famous book? 

3. Which book do you like best? Why? 

4. Tell something of Miss Alcott's help to aspiring 
authors. 

5. Name some of her distinguished friends. 

6. Tell something of Miss Alcott's characters and 
methods of work. 

7. Describe *'Marmee," In what books are the fol- 
lowing characters found: — Jo, Prof. Bhaer, Laurie, 
Rose, Amy, Nan, Demi, and Meg. Write a descriptive 
sentence regarding each. 

8. Write ten sentences about Little Women. 

9. Write a brief review of Rose in Bloom. 

10. What was Miss Alcott's first book? Why did 
she begin to write? 



HELEN HUNT JACKSON 



301 



HELEN HUNT JACKSON. 
1831— 1885. 

''The Red Mans Friend^ 

HELEN Hunt Jackson did for the red man as Har- 
riet Beecher Stowe did for the slave. Through her 
influence the government instituted many important re- 
forms in the method of deaHng with the Indians. Her 
greatest work, Ramona, was written in their behalf, and, 
as one critic says, it must have been produced under a 
divine inspiration. 

Helen Maria Fiske was born in Amherst, Mass., Oct. 
I, 1 83 1. Her father was a professor at Amherst Col- 
lege, and sent his daughter to the female seminary at 
Ipswich, Massachusetts, to be educated. At the age of 
twenty-one she married Captain Edward B. Hunt of the 
United States Navy, and during the following eleven 
years they resided at various posts. Captain Hunt died, 
and she made a home for herself and children at New- 
port, R. L, but, one by one, the children, too, passed away, 
leaving her sad and desolate, indeed. 

Helen Hunt's first literary composition was some 
verses written during her girlhood and published by a 
Boston newspaper. She offered nothing more for pub- 
lication until two years after the death of her husband, 
when a New York paper issued a number of her verses, 
over the signature of "H. H.," which attracted wide and 
favorable attention. In 1870 these poems were collected 
and published under one cover entitled Verses From 
H. H. After the death of her children she decided to de- 
vote herself entirely to literature. The following year 



302 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 

Bits of Travel and Bits of Talk About Home Matters 
appeared. Mrs. Hunt was now broken in health and 
spirit and moved to CaUfornia, hoping that change of 
scene and cHmate would benefit her health. In 1875 she 
became the wife of William S. Jackson, a merchant of 
Colorado Springs. Here in this picturesque little city, 
nestling close at the foot of Pike's Peak, she spent the 
remainder of her life, excepting short periods at various 
times, when she traveled in California, New Mexico and 
the Eastern States collecting material for her books. 

In 1876 Mrs. Jackson issued Sonnets and Lyrics and 
Mercy Philhrook's Choice. Books and stories now fol- 
lowed each other in quick succession. She had rapidly 
gained distinction in both prose and verse, and both were 
characterized by deep thoughtfulness, rare grace, and 
charmingly correct and beautiful diction. She was not 
unmindful of the young in her productions and gave to 
youthful readers several interesting books. In 1881 A 
Century of Dishonor appeared and was quickly conceded 
by critics to be the best work which she had given to the 
public ; but three years later it gave place to Ramona. 
This was the author's last book, and by far her most 
powerful work both as a novel and in its beneficent influ- 
ence. It was her most conscientious and sympathetic 
work, being the result of years of careful study of the 
Indian problem. 

Mrs. Jackson met with a painful accident in June, 1884, 
having the misfortune to badly fracture one of her limbs. 
As soon as she was able to travel she was taken to Cali- 
fornia with the hope that she would recover more rapidly. 
Here she contracted malarial fever, and at the same 
time developed cancer. She died August 12, 1885. In 



HELEN HUNT JACKSON 



303 



accordance with her desire, her remains were taken back 
to Colorado and buried on Mount Jackson, a peak named 
in her honor, looking down into the wild, weird pass 
of the Rocky Mountains known as Cheyenne Canyon. 
This spot had been very dear to Mrs. Jackson. Near here 
was the log cabin which had been built for her as a quiet 
literary retreat and where she had spent so many happy 
hours with her friends. 

Tourists who visit Colorado Springs seldom fail to visit 
the lonely grave of Helen Hunt Jackson and her cabin 
home. A certain traveler thus describes his trip : "We 
drove as far as a vehicle could pass up the mountain 
road that wound along a little stream which came tum- 
bling down the narrow ravine, splitting the mountain in 
twain. Soon we were compelled to abandon the wagon, 
and on foot we climbed the rugged way, first on one 
side and then on the other of the rushing rivulet where 
the narrow path could find space enough to lay its crooked 
length along. Suddenly a little log cabin in a clump of 
trees burst on our view. A boy with a Winchester rifle 
slung over his shoulder met us a few feet from the door 
and requested a fee of twenty-five cents each before we 
were permitted to pass. This is the house Helen Hunt 
lived in, and away above there is where she is buried,' 
the boy replied in answer to questions. We inspected 
the house, and then, over more rocky steeps, we climbed 
to the spot indicated near a falling cataract and stood be- 
side a pile of stones thrown together by hundreds of 
tourists who had preceded us. . . . We gathered 
some stones and added them to the pile and left her alone 
by the singing cataract, beneath the sighing branches of 
the firs and pines which stood like towering sentinels 



304 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



around her on Mount Jackson. 'What a monument!' 
exclaimed one of our party, 'more lasting than ham- 
mered bronze ! But not more lasting than the good she 
has done. Her influence will live while this mountain 
shall stand, unless another dark age should sweep litera- 
ture out of existence. Of all American writers, she has 
been the Indian's greatest benefactor. I only wonder 
that they do not convert this place mto a shrine and come 
here to worship.' " 

A PARTIAL LIST OF H. H. JACKSON's WRITINGS. 

Verses by "H. H." Bits of Travel. 

Sonnets and Lyrics. Bits of Talk About Home 

Mercy Philbrick's Choice. Matters. 

The "No Name" Series." Hetty's Strange History. 

Ramona. A Century of Dishonor. 

DIRECTIONS FOR STUDY. 

1. Commit the poem to memory. 

n. Explain stanzas 3, 5 and 6. 

HI. Name some of the boasts of June. 

IV. Contrast June and October. 

V. Which is your favorite month? Why? 

OCTOBER'S BRIGHT BLUE WEATHER. 

O suns and skies and clouds of June, 

And flowers of June together. 
Ye cannot rival for one hour 

October's bright blue weather. 

When loud the bumble-bee makes haste, 
Belated, thriftless, vagrant, 



HELEN HUNT JACKSON 



And golden rod is dying fast, 

And lanes with grapes are fragrant; 

When gentians roll their' fringes tight 
To save them from the morning, 

And chestnuts fall from satin burrs 
Without a sound of warning; 

When on the ground red applies lie 

In piles like jewels shining; 
And redder still on old stone walls 

Are leaves of woodbine twining ; 

When all the lovely wayside things 
Their white-winged seeds are sowing, 

And in the fields, still green and fair, 
Late aftermath are growing; 

When springs run low, and on the brooks, 

In idle golden freighting, 
Bright leaves sink noiseless in the hush 

Of woods, for winter waiting; 

When comrades seek sweet country haunts, 

By twos and twos together, 
And count like misers hour by hour, 

October's bright blue weather. 

O suns and skies and flowers of June, 
Count all your boasts together. 

Love loveth best of all the year, 
October's bright blue weather. 



306 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATTJRE 



QUESTIONS ON MRS. JACKSON. 

1. Write a brief sketch of Mrs. Jackson's life. 

2. Name her best known work. What race of men 
did it benefit ? 

3. Name three other books. Three poems. 

4. Quote two memory gems. 

5. Where is Mrs. Jackson buried? Sketch the tour- 
ist's description of her grave. 

6. Write a brief review of Ramona. 

7. Compare Mrs. Jackson and Mrs. Stowe. 

— Helen Hunt Jackson. 



* * Education is a life work, and not a matter to be crowded into 
a few early years. ' ' — Tourgee. 



CHAPTER V. 



OTHER AMERICAN WRITERS WHOM WE 
SHOULD KNOW. 

"With perseverance the very odds and ends of time may be 
worked up into results of the greatest value." 



Horace Mann. 
Henry Ward Beecher. 
Henry D. Thoreau. 
J. G. Holland. 
Thomas B. Read. 



Edward Everett Hale. 
Bayard Taylor. 
Lewis Wallace. 
Edward Eggleston. 
W. D. Howells. 



Bret Harte. 



THE GREAT HISTORIANS. 

Prescott. Motley. 
Bancroft. Parkman. 



''The best things are nearest — light in your eyes, flowers at 
your feet, duties at your hand, the path of God just before you. 
Then do not grasp at the stars, but do life's plain, common work 
as it comes, certain that daily duties and daily bread are the 
sweetest things of life. ' ' — Selected. 



1 



OTHER AMERICAN WRITERS WHOM WE 
SHOULD KNOW. 



IN THIS small volume it would, of course, be impos- 
sible to mention all our writers of note and ability. 
We have aimed to present in chronological order of birth 
those best known to fame, and those who may stand as 
types of a certain class. We feel, however, that any study 
of American literature that neglected to give some time, 
at least, to the writers mentioned on the previous page 
would be incomplete indeed. The teacher may readily 
add to our brief outline if his course allows time to dwell 
at length upon these authors. We would suggest that 
the biography be read up in the encyclopedia or in one 
or more of the works of reference which we give. 
Also that one or more of the suggested selections be 
read, and the memory gems faithfully committed. Aim 
to become familiar with some of the noble thoughts and 
general style of these writers. 

HORACE MANN. 
1796-1859. 

''Educator and Philanthropist." 

HORACE Mann was born in Franklin, Massachu- 
setts, May 4, 1796. Parents poor but of exemplary 
character and intelligent. Graduated at Brown Uni- 
versity, became a successful lawyer, and served in both 

309 



310 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



house and senate in the Massachusetts State Legislature. 
Was active in the leading reforms of his day — anti- 
slavery, temperance, equal rights for women, etc. De- 
cided to devote his life to the great cause of education in 
1837. He was eminently fitted to be a leader in this 
cause. Dr. Channing wrote to him: ''You could not 
find a nobler station. Government has no nobler one to 
give. I have long desired that some one uniting all your 
qualifications should devote himself to this work. If we 
can but turn the wonderful energy of this people into 
a right channel, what a new heaven and earth must be 
realized among us !" 

Horace Mann called the first national convention of 
teachers in 1850. He traveled through Europe, visiting 
all the leading schools and many others, publishing an 
account of his researches in his Seventh Annual Report. 
He succeeded John Quincy Adams in Congress in 1848. 
Received a call to the presidency of Antioch College in 
1852, and held this office until his death, seven years 
later. A monument erected on the college campus bears 
this inscription, from the closing words of his last 
memorable commencement address to the students, 
beseech you to treasure up in your hearts these, my part- 
ing words, be ashamed to die until you have won some 
victory for humanity." 

REFERENCES. 

Life of Horace Mann, by his wife, M(wy Peahody 
Mann, sister of Mrs. Hawthorne. - 
Horace Mann, Dr. Winship, 



HENBY WARD BEECHER 



311 



HENRY WARD BEECHER. 
1813-1887. 

"America's most celebrated pulpit orator." 

HENRY WARD BEECHER was born in Litchfield, Con- 
necticut, June 24. Graduate of Amherst Col- 
lege and Lane Seminary. Pastor of Brooklyn Plymouth 
Church from its organization until his death. Spoke 
from the platform with astonishing eloquence and per- 
suasive power against slavery. During the Civil War 
gave a series of addresses in England for the purpose of 
overcoming the hostility of the English people toward 
the North, which were probably without parallel in the 
history of oratory. "His eloquence," says Abernethy, 
*'was spontaneous, fervid, strong in apt illustration, rich 
in humor, and abounding in original and striking forms 
of statement." He contributed largely to the periodicals 
of the day and published many books, but the highest 
quality of his genius was expressed chiefly through the 
living voice, the magic of his personality is not felt in 
the printed page, and thus his work was largely of tem- 
porary interest. His writings covered a wide range of 
subjects, such as Lectures to Young Men, Eyes and Ears, 
Pleasant Talk About Fruit, Flowers and Farming, Evo- 
lution and Religion, Freedom and War, Norwood, a 
novel of little merit. Life of Christ, etc. His most popu- 
lar work is his two volumes of Star Papers, and his best 
work is found in the eleven volumes of his Sermons, 
which were taken down by a stenographer as they were 
delivered. 



312 STUDIES IN AMERieAN LITERATURE 



Henry Ward Beecher died in Brooklyn, March 8, and 
was interred in Greenwood cemetery. 

SELECTION FROM H. W. BEECHER. 

The cynic is one who never sees a good quahty in a 
man, and never fails to see a bad one. He is the human 
owl, vigilant in darkness, and blind to light; mousing 
for vermin, and never seeing noble game. The cynic 
puts all human actions into only two classes — openly bad, 
and secretly bad. 

All virtue and generosity and disinterestedness are 
merely the appearance of good, but selfish at the bottom. 
He holds that no man does a good thing except for profit. 
The effect of his conversation upon your feelings is to 
chill and sear them ; to send you away sour and morose. 
His criticisms and innuendoes fall indiscriminately upon 
every lovely thing, like frost upon flowers. 

''Mr. A," said some one, "is a religious man." He 
will answer: ''Yes, on Sundays." "Mr. B has just 
joined the church." ''Certainly ; the elections are coming 
on." The minister of the Gospel is called an example of 
diligence. ''It is his trade." Such a man is generous — 
''of other men's money." This man is obliging — ''to lull 
suspicion and cheat you." That man is upright — "he- 
cause he is green." 

Thus, his eye strains out every good quality, and takes 
in only the bad. To him religion is hypocrisy, honesty 
a preparation for fraud, virtue only a want of opportu- 
nity, and undeniable purity, asceticism. The live-long 
day he will sit with sneering lip, uttering sharp speeches 
in the quietest manner, and in polished phrase transfixing 

( 



HENRY D. THOEEAU 



313 



every character which is presented : "His words are 
'softer than oil, yet they are drawn swords." 

HENRY D. THOREAU. 
1817-1862. 

''The Poet-Naturalistr 

Modest and mild and kind, 
Who never spurned the needing from thy door— 
(Door of thy heart, which is a palace gate) ; 
Temperate and faithful, — in whose word the world 
Might trust, sure to repay, unvexed by care, 
Unawed by Fortune's nod, slave to no lord, 
Nor coward to thy peers, — long shalt thou live! 

— W. E. Chnnning. 

HENRY D. Thoreau was born in Concord, July 12. 
Graduated at Harvard, 1837. Was a teacher, 
lecturer, author, surveyor, engineer, carpenter, pencil- 
maker, and a life-long Abolitionist. Habits were very 
simple. Reading and study of wild life were the 
only occupations that satisfied him, and for these he 
renounced the world. Lived, for the most part, the life 
of a hermit in the woods, about six weeks of paid labor 
in the year serving to supply all his wants. "He had 
few friendships ; animals and Indians were more com- 
panionable than cultivated men, because nearer the heart 
of Nature. He was a naturalist, but not a scientist. He 
would never use trap or gun ; like Hawthorne's Donatello 
he possessed a kind of mysterious kinship with the ani- 
mal world. The hunted fox came to him for shelter, 
squirrels nestled in his clothing, men often found him 
cold, but children delighted in his company. All living 



314 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 

objects seemed to yield their secrets to him as his right. 
He had the poet's sensitiveness to every sound and scene 
of beauty, and at times could express his feeling in well- 
turned verse." Among his best poems are Sympathy, 
The Fisher s Boy, Mountains, Inspiration, and Smoke. 
His writings abound in noble thoughts clothed in simple 
and beautiful language. He was indifferent to fame, 
and did not need public interest or private sympathy to 
encourage him in his work. The little world of his 
native town was all-sufficient to him. He often said: 
have traveled extensively in Concord." Walden; or 
Life in the Woods, written from his hermitage near 
Walden lake, is his most charming and popular book. 
Thoreau is buried in Sleepy Hollow cemetery near his 
dear friend Emerson. 

MEMORY SELECTIONS. 

'Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in. I drink at 
it ; but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect 
how shallow it is. Its thin current slides away, but eter- 
nity remains. I would drink deeper; fish in the sky, 
whose bottom is pebbly with stars." 

"The head monkey at Paris put on a traveler's cap, 
and all the monkeys in America do the same." 

''The finest qualities of our nature, like the bloom on 
fruits, can be preserved, only by the most delicate han- 
dling." 

"We are all sculptors and painters, and our material 
is our own flesh and blood and bones. Any nobleness 
begins at once to refine a man's features, any meanness 
or sensuality to imbrute them." 

"O how I laugh when I think of my vague, indefinite 



HENRY D. THOREAU 



315 



riches. No run on my bank can drain it, for my wealth 
is not possession but enjoyment." 

"Our thoughts are the epochs in our Hves: all else is 
but as a journal of the winds that blew while we were 
here." 

*'Men and boys are learning all kinds of trades but 
how to make men of themselves." 

"Why should we ever go abroad, even across the way, 
to ask a neighbor's advice? There is a nearer neighbor 
within us, incessantly telling us how we should behave. 
But we wait for the neighbor without to tell us of some 
false, easier way." 

"But what a battle a man must fight everywhere to 
maintain his standing army of thoughts, and march with 
them in orderly array through the always hostile coun- 
try!" 

Suggested Readings : — The Fisher's Boy, Mountains, 
Inspiration. 

CRITICISM. 

It is only in recent years that the true value of 
Thoreau's writing has been discovered. His power Hes 
in a sympathetic and minute knowledge of Nature suf- 
fused with ideality. Lowell says : "His range was nar- 
row, but to be a master is to be a master. His quota- 
tions are always nuggets of the purest ore ; there are 
sentences of his as perfect as anything in the language, 
and thoughts as clearly crystallized ; his metaphors and 
images are always fresh from the soil; he had watched 
Nature like a detective who is to go upon the stand ; as 
we read him it seems as if all out-of-doors had kept a 
diary and become its own Montaigne ; we look at the 



316 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



landscape as in a Claude Lorraine glass; compared with 
his, all other books of similar aim, even White's Sel- 
horne, seem dry as a country clergyman's meteorological 
journal in an old almanac." There are many critics, 
however, who regarded Thoreau as a trifle dull because 
of his endless recording of minute details and his fre- 
quently rather indefinite aim. 

REFERENCES. 

Poems : Thoreau's Flute, Louisa M. Alcott. 
Woodnotes, Emerson. 
The Poet-Naturalist, Ellery Channing. 
Memories of Thoreau, Emerson, 

JOSIAH GILBERT HOLLAND. 
1819-1881. 
''Timothy Titcomh." 

His own hand his best wreath must lay! 
Of his own life his last words were true — 
So true, love 's truth no truer thing can say — 

' ' By sympathy all hearts to him he drew. ' ' 

— Helen Sunt Jackson. 

JOSIAH Gilbert Holland was born in the "up- 
per circle" at Belchertown, Massachusetts, July 
24. His noble father is pictured in the poem Daniel 
Gray, and the mother receives a beautiful tribute in the 
opening lines of Kathrina. Graduated at the Berkshire 
Medical School. For a time was superintendent of 
schools in Vicksburg, Mississippi. Married Elizabeth 
Chapin, of Springfield, Massachusetts, in 1845. Four 



JOSIAH GILBERT HOLLAND 



317 



years later became associate editor of the Springfield 
Republican and issued his famous Letters from Timothy 
Titcomb. Traveled in Europe. On his return founded 
the Century Magazine and was editor until his death. 
Was president of the New York City Board of Educa- 
tion. Was a popular lecturer, a noble Christian and 
great worker in church and Sunday-school and leader of 
the choir. Died in New York City, October 12. Buried 
near Mt. Holyoke in the midst of the scenes which he so 
dearly loved. 

Best known prose works are Arthur Bonnicastle, Seven 
Oaks, and Letters to Young People. Most popular long 
poems are Bitter-Sweet, The Mistress of the Manse, and 
Kathrina. Favorite shorter poems are A Christmas 
Carol, Wanted, A Glimpse of Youth, and Gradatim. 
"He moralized everything that he wrote, using a simple 
and homely style, befitting the commonplace topics of his 
essays and the commonplace people to whom he addressed 
himself." He revolutionized the whole field of the news- 
paper and the monthly journal, showing that both might 
be powerful agents in purifying and sweetening the foun- 
tains of personal and family life. 

MEMORY SELECTIONS. 

We rise by things that are 'neath our feet; 

By what we have mastered of good or gain; 

By the pride deposed and the passion slain; 
And the vanquished ills that we hourly meet. 

"A man who only asserts so much of that which is in 
him as will find favor with those among whom he has his 
daily life, and who withholds all that which will wound 



318 STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITERATUEE 



their vanity and condemn their selfishness and clash with 
their principles and prejudices, has no more manhood in 
him than there is in a spaniel, and is certainly one of the 
most contemptible shirks the world contains." — Holland's 
Plain Talks. 

There's a song in the air! 

There's a star in the sky ! 
There's a mothers deep prayer 

And a baby's low cry ! 

And the star rains its fire while the Beautiful sing, 
For the manger of Bethlehem cradles a king. 

— A Christmas Carol. 
"A young man is not fit for life until he is clean — 
clean and healthy, body and soul, with no tobacco in his 
mouth, no liquor in his stomach, no oath on his tongue, 
and no thought in his heart which if exposed would send 
him sneaking into darkness from the presence of all good 
women." — Essay on Bad Habits. 

SUGGESTED READINGS. 

Bitter-Szveet, Letters to Young People, A Glimpse of 
Youth, Wanted. Write a review of Bitter-Sweet, not to 
exceed 300 words. Commit to memory A Glimpse of 
Youth. 

CRITICISM. 

"At any rate, it is enough to say that he knew what 
he was about when he wrote novels with a purpose. And 
it must be admitted by everybody that his purposes were 
high and pure ; that the blows he struck with this good 
weapon of fiction were telling blows. The same thing is 



THOMAS BUCHANAN REED 



319 



true of his poems. All of his principal poems take hold of 
great themes, deal with great interests of character and 
the great spiritual laws. . . . He was a true and 
generous friend. With quick sympathies, and warm 
enthusiasms, he was always ready to bear the burdens of 
others, and his hearty words and painstaking services 
have lightened many a heart." — Washington Gladden, Dr. 
Holland's pastor. 

THOMAS BUCHANAN READ. 
1822 — 1872. 
''The Artist Poet." 

TJOMAs Buchanan Read was born in the "Vale 
of Chester," famous as the home of Bayard 
Taylor. Went to Cincinnati at the age of seventeen and 
studied portrait painting in the studio of Clevinger. 
Became quite famous in this line. Best known portraits, 
Longfellow's daughters, Mrs. Browning, also a painting 
illustrating Sheridan's Ride, his most popular poem. 
Drifting is considered also the most beautiful. Other 
well known poems are The Wagoner of the AUeghanies, 
The House by the Sea, Nezv Pastoral, The Closing Scene, 
The Revolutionary War. First volume of poems pub- 
lished in 1847. From 1853 to 1858 studied art in Flor- 
ence and Rome. Died in New York, May 11, shortly 
' after returning from a visit to Rome. 

The maid who binds her warrior's sash 
With smile that well her pain dissembles, 



320 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



The while beneath her drooping lash 

One starry tear-drop hangs and trembles, 

Though Heaven alone records the tear 
And Fame shall never know her story, 

Her heart has shed a drop as dear 
As e'er bedewed the field of glory. 

— The Wagoner of the AUeghanies. 

How sweet the hour of Sabbath talk, 

The vale with peace and sunshine full, 
Where all the happy people walk, 
\ Decked in their homespun flax and wool! 

Where youth's gay hats with blossoms bloom, 

And every maid, with simple art. 
Wears on her breast, like her own heart, 

A bud whose depths are all perfume; 
While every garment's gentle stir 

Is breathing rose and lavender. 

— The Rising of ly/d. 

Though the world smile on you blandly. 
Let your friends be choice and few; 

Choose your course, pursue it grandly, 
And achieve what you pursue. 

O happy ship 

To rise and dip, 
With the blue crystal at your lip ! 

O happy crew. 

My heart with you 
Sails and sails, and sings anew ! 

No more, no more 

The worldly shore 



\ 



EDWARD EVERETT HALE 321 

Upbraids nie with its loud uproar; 

With dreamful eyes 

My spirit lies 
Under the walls of Paradise ! 

— Drifting. 

The swallows alone take the storm on their wing, 
And, taunting the tree-sheltered laborers, sing, 
Like pebbles the rain breaks the face of the spring, 
While a bubble darts up from each widening ring. 

— The Summer Shower. 

SUGGESTED READINGS. 

Sheridan's Ride, Drifting. Amplify the former poem. 

EDWARD EVERETT HALE. 
1822. 

EDWARD Everett Hale was born in Boston, 1822, 
and still lives, a connecting link between the 
intellectual life of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. 
His long life has been one of singular energy and useful- 
ness. During the civil war his story. The Man Without 
a Country, roused the patriotism and kindled the waning 
enthusiasm of the North. This story has become a classic 
and has been translated into many languages ; so skill- 
fully is the fiction wrought that it was long considered 
to be a truthful record of actual facts. Hale comes of 
historic stock, being grand-nephew of the patriot, Nathan 
Hale, and nephew of Edward Everett. After helping his 
father in the publication of the Boston Advertiser (of 
which the latter was founder), both by typesetting and 



322 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 

contributions, he wrote largely for various newspapers. 
He studied theology and in 1842 became a Congrega- 
tional minister. In 1856 he was called to the South 
Congregational Church of Boston, a Unitarian congre- 
gation of which he is still pastor emeritus. As a writer 
he has been one of the most prolific in most various fields, 
only Holmes and Lowell may be said to rival him in 
versatility. My Double and Hozu He Undid Me is an 
amusing satire. Philip Nolan s Friends is his best known 
long story. He has written a Life of Washington, a 
Life of Franklin and an admirable work entitled, The 
Lights of Tivo Centuries. His Ten Times One Is Ten 
inspired the formation of the Henry Wadsworth Clubs 
throughout the world, the King's Daughters and Look 
Up Legion and others owe their existence to his kindly 
influence. The motto which he gave to these clubs, 
"Look up, not down; look forward, not back; look out, 
not in ; lend a hand," may be said to have been the motto 
of his own life, and it has been truly said of him that 
"from youth to old age no movement for the betterment 
of his fellows has failed to enhst his voice and pen." 
The rightful reward of such a life has been his. He 
has been offered many positions of honor and trust, many 
of which he has honorably filled ; many more he has been 
compelled to decline. He has been a member of the 
Overseers of Harvard University, President of the Phi 
Beta Kappa Society, Counsellor of the Chautauqua Asso- 
ciation, and today full of years and honors he remains 
one of the last surviving lights of a great epoch. 

CRITICISMS. 

Dr. Hale is not able to sustain his best qualities in a 



BAYARD TAYLOB 



323 



long story or complete novel. Their airy structures are 
not broad enough in the foundation of sentiment or char- 
acter ; the puzzle or the mystery must be solved before 
the interest flags. In His Name, a story of the Wal- 
denses, has been widely read on account of its historic 
interest. Next to Dr. Hale's abounding humor one most 
enjoys his healthy optimism. — Ahernethy. 

Suggested Readings : — A Man Without a Country, 
Ten Times One Is Ten, The Brick Moon. 

BAYARD TAYLOR. 

1825-1878. 
''The Poet-Traveler." 

O Vale of Chester! trod by him so oft, 

Green as thy June turf keep his memory. Let 
Nor wood, nor dell, nor storied stream forget. 

Nor winds that blow round lonely Cedareroft; 

Let the home voices greet him in the far, 

Strange land that holds him; let the messages 
Of love pursue him 'er the chartless seas 

And unmapped vastness of his unknown star! 

Love 's language, heard beyond the loud discourse 
Of perishable fame, in every sphere 
Itself interprets; and its utterance here 

Somewhere in God's unfolding universe 

Shall reach our traveller, softening the surprise 
Of his rapt gaze on unfamiliar skies! 

— Whittier: Bayard Taylor. 

BAYARD Taylor was born in Chester County 
Pennsylvania, January 11. Educated in the country 
schools and the academy at West Chester. First poems 
published at the age of sixteen. First volume, a collection 



324 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 

of poems, at nineteen. The latter earned him a few 
Hterary friends, and brought him a Httle money. He now 
determined to visit Europe, and set out with $140 in 
money and a few promises from editors to accept descrip- 
tive articles. He crossed the ocean, and in two years 
tramped about three thousand miles, with "nothing but a 
sheet of paper between him and starvation." He was an 
ideal traveler, learning the language and entering with 
boundless enthusiasm into the life of the people wherever 
he went. He wrote thus from Constantinople : *T wear the 
tarboosh, smoke the Persian pipe, and drop cross-legged 
on the floor with the ease of any tailor whatever. I 
determined to taste the Orient as it was, in reality, not 
as a mere outside looker-on, and so picked up the Arabic 
tongue, put on the wide trousers, and adopted as many 
eastern customs as was becoming to a good Christian." 
His letters to the Tribune and other papers were widely 
read. Later they were collected and published under the 
title Viezvs Afoot; or, Europe Seen zvith Knapsack and 
Staff. Returning from Europe, he entered the stafif of 
the Tribune and was sent to California in 1849 to write 
up the wild life of the mining camps. Returned in 1850 
and married his boyhood sweetheart, Mary Agnew, who 
died two months after their marriage. 

Taylor immediately set out upon an extended tour 
through the Old World. He explored every region of 
popular interest "from Japan and the peaks of the Hima- 
layas to Iceland, the Cape of Good Hope, and the White 
Nile.'' Eleven interesting volumes of travel were the 
fruit of his wanderings. They v/ere widely read and 
deservedly popular, but in later years Taylor looked upon 
them with some discomfort ; his highest ambition was to 



BAYARD TAYLOR 



325 



be looked upon as a great American poet, but the public 
could think of him only as "the great American traveler !" 
He married Marie Hansen in Germany in 1858, and, 
returning home the following year, built his large man- 
sion, Cedarcroft. Like Sir Walter Scott,. he builded on 
too magnificent a scale, and the home which he had long 
looked forward to was a burden to him the rest of his 
life. Here in this beautiful home he wrote his three 
novels and many short stories, sketches, and poems. He 
depended altogether upon prose for his "pot-boilers," and 
put all his artistic talent into his poetry. "His finest 
thought, feeling, and ideals, his generous manhood, love 
of nature, home, and kindred, his passion for perfection, 
his deep religious philosophy are fully expressed in his 
verse." His Bedouin Song, found in his Poems of the 
Orient, is one of the supreme love lyrics of the language. 
Lars: A Pastoral of Norzvay is his most popular long 
poem. Of it Stedman says : "We have no idyl of similar 
length, except Evangeline, that equals it in finish and 
interest." Of Taylor's relative rank as a poet, Beers 
says : "He may unhesitatingly be put first among our 
poets of the second generation — the generation succeed- 
ing that of Longfellow and Lowell." 

Taylor was appointed minister to Germany in 1878, but 
his splendid constitution had broken under the strain 
of ceaseless toil and he died a few months after reaching 
Berlin. He was buried by the side of his first wife in 
Longwood Cemetery two miles from Cedarcroft. 

MEMORY SELECTIONS. 

"No people can ever become truly great and free who 
are not virtuous. If the soul aspires for liberty — pure 



226 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 

and perfect liberty — it also aspires for everything that is 
noble in truth, everything that is holy in virtue." 

In many a mountain fastness, 

By many a river's foam, 
And through the gorgeous cities, 

'Twas loneliness to roam ; 
For the sweetest music in my heart 

Was the olden song of home. 

— The Wayside Dream. 

From the Desert I come to thee 

On a stallion shod with fire ; 
And the winds are left behind 

In the speed of my desire. 
Under thy window I stand, 

And the midnight hears my cry: 
I love thee, I love but thee, 
With a love that shall not die 
Till the sun grows cold, 
And the stars are old, 
And the leaves of the Judgment Book 
« unfold! — Bedouin Song. 

SUGGESTED READING. 

Poems: The Song of the Camp, The Bedouin Song. 
Prose work : Views Afoot, Boys of Other Countries. 

CRITICISMS. 

"Taylor was the most versatile of American authors. 
Only Holmes can be compared with him in this respect. 
He was traveler, lecturer, journalist, critic, translator, 
novelist, poet. The whole gamut of literary activity he 



BAYARD TAYLOR 



327 



sounded, and with distinction. But his versatihty and 
omnivorous interests were his misfortune, for they pre- 
vented that devoted concentration necessary to the pro- 
duction of work of immortal greatness. Taylor's original 
work in its varied forms has almost every quality short 
of greatness. His splendid productive energies were 
wasted upon commonplace work. His working capital 
was enormous ; he wrote always with a rushing rapidity, 
and often fifteen hours a day ; his published works num- 
ber fifty-two volumes." — Ahernethy' s Literature. 

''To him poetry was a second religion, or an intellectual 
continuation of that natural, moral sentiment which lifts 
man above himself and his fortunes in his aspiration after 
immortality and supernal life. He held that no achieve- 
ment of man was comparable to the creation of a living 
poem. He saw, with other thinking men, that the work 
of the poet is more like the work of God than any other 
earthly thing, since it is the only product of art that is 
assured of perpetuity, by the safety with which it can be 
transmitted from generation to generation. He believed 
himself to be a poet, — of what stature and quality it is 
now for the world to decide, — and in that faith he 
wrought at his vocation with an assiduity, and a careful 
husbanding of his time and opportunities for mental and 
for written poetical composition, that was wonderful as 
an exhibition of human industry, and in its many and 
varied results, when we take into consideration his wan- 
dering life and his diversified and exacting employments. 
To him the cultivation of the poetic art was the duty and 
the serious business of his life, — the talent entrusted him, 
to be put at use, by the Master, — while the winning of 
bread and the struggle for place were subordinate cares, 



328 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



as insignificant by comparison as is the duration of one 
man's life tq that of the race of man." — G. H. Boker, the 
popular play zvriter. 

REFERENCES. 

Poems: Tent on the Beach, and Bayard Taylor. — 
JVhittier. Bayard Taylor —Longfellozsj. Bayard Taylor. 
— C ranch. To B. F., To Bayard Taylor on His Fortieth 
Birthday. — Stoddard. To Bayard Taylor. — Stedman. 
Bayard Taylor. — Aldrich. Life and Letters of Bayard 
Taylor, by His Wife. 

GENERAL LEWIS WALLACE. 

1827-1905. 
''The famous author of Ben Hur." 

LEWIS Wallace was born at Brookville, Indi- 
ana, April 10. Father, David Wallace, Governor 
of Indiana. Wrote his first novel at the age of sixteen, 
but it was never published. The story of Cortez inspired 
him to write A Fair God, which he began at eighteen 
but did not finish until he was thirty years of age. In 
the meantime he had gone through the war with Mexico, 
and studied law. He rose to the rank of a distinguished 
general in the Civil War. At the age of 47 he began 
Ben Hiir, intending to make only a short article of it, 
describing the meeting of the Three Wise Men in the 
desert and their journey to Bethlehem. He was a year 
or more writing this part of the story. He had never 
been to Palestine, and knew nothing of the land, the 
people, or their manners and customs, and did not even 
know the Bible story very well. He secured everything 



GENERAL LEWIS WALLACE 



329 



in the way of reference that he could find, intending to 
make his short novelette entirely accurate. As the story 
grew he became convinced that it was only the prelude 
to the great drama that closed only with the atonement 
of Christ. He was . five years at work upon this great 
masterpiece. At first the book sold slowly, then its 
merits began to be recognized and its popularity grew 
with great rapidity. Within a few years after its appear- 
ance it was published in Canada and Great Britain, and 
a little later was translated into Italian, German, Bo- 
hemian, French, Spanish, and Swedish. Uncle Tom's 
Cabin alone, of all American books, rivals Ben Hvir in 
world-wide celebrity. 

Wallace was United States minister to Turkey from 
i88i to 1885. The literary result of this foreign sojourn 
was The Prince of India. The last years of his life were 
spent in Crawfordsville, Indiana, in the seclusion of his 
library. This is a one-storied, fire-proof structure of a 
single room built apart from the dwelling. It has but 
one door and is lighted from the top. There are gath- 
ered thousands of books, manuscripts, and personal treas- 
ures, amidst which the famous author worked in a silence 
and seclusion as complete as if he had been in the heart 
of the Rocky Mountains. 

For years he was afflicted with cancer of the stomach, 
yet only three days before he died, he worked on his 
Recollections of the Civil War, and spoke confidently of 
going to Water-babble, the farm home, in the spring. 
Almost with his last breath he spoke a cheery good night 
to his two little grandchildren and watched them trot 
smilingly away to bed. 

Suggested reading — Ben Hur. 



330 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATUEE 



EDWARD EGGLESTON. 
1837-1902. 

EDWARD Eggleston was born in Vevay, Indi- 
ana, December 10, Was a wandering Meth- 
odist preacher for a number of years. Edited The Little 
Corporal and The Sunday-School Teacher in Chicago. 
Became editor of New York Hearth and Home in 1870. 
Preached for five years in Brooklyn, and finally devoted 
himself exclusively to literature. He faithfully por- 
trayed the pioneer life of the middle west and immortal- 
ized the picturesque character of the original Hoosier. 
His novels are all fresh, vivid, genuine, and the direct 
outcome of personal experience. The first of the books 
to open up this new field of fiction was The Hoosier 
Schoolmaster in 187 1. The characters and scenes were 
rough, but youth, age, and education in the backwoods 
were portrayed with faithful fidelity. *'Boys won't larn 
'less you thrash 'em," says Mr. Pete Jones, school trus 
tee. ''Leastways, mine won't. Lay it on good. Don' 
do no harm. Lickin' and Tarnin' goes together. No 
lickin', no Tarnin', says L Lickin' and I'arnin', lickin 
and I'arnin', is the good ole way." 

Other books are The Hoosier School Boy, The Circuit 
Rider, The End of the World, The Gray sons, The Faith 
Doctor. During his last years he planned an extensive 
work to be entitled, A History of Life in the U. S., in 
which the "culture history" of the people was to be fully 
treated. He had only finished two volumes. The Begin 
ners of a Nation and The Transit of Civilization, when 
death overtook him. 



WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS 



331 



Suggested Readings : — The Hoosier Schoolmaster, The 
Hoosier School Boy. 

WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS. 
1837. 

''The realistic novelist of America." 

W[LLiAM Dean Howells was born at Martin's 
Ferry, Ohio, 1837. Received his education 
mostly in his father's printing office. At twenty-one he 
became editor of the Ohio State Journal. General pub- 
lice notice was first called to him by his carefully written 
campaign biography of Abraham Lincoln. For this 
service Lincoln appointed him Minister to Venice. How- 
ells availed himself of the opportunity to learn the Italian 
language, and devoted a great part of the four years to 
the study of literature and literary work. His books 
Venetian Life and Italian Journeys were the delightful 
outcome of his sojourn in the land of sunny skies and 
soft southern breezes. On returning to New York he 
became assistant editor and later editor-in-chief of the 
Atlantic Monthly, resigning at the end of nine years to 
devote himself to independent authorship. 

Among his books, Impressions and Experiences and 
A Boy's Town give faithful descriptions of the author's 
boyhood struggling aspirations and environments. A 
Modern Instance has been called his most powerful and 
most disagreeable book. Of it he says, "It has always 
given me the most satisfaction. I have there come the 
nearest to American life as I know it." Other books 
are: — The Lady of the Aroostook, Suburban Sketches, 



332 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 

The Undiscovered Country, The Rise of Silas Lapham, 
and A Hazard of Nezv Fortunes. Mr. Howells has 
also written a number of pleasing comedies for the ama- 
teur stage. Among which are The Elevator, The Albany 
Depot, and The Unexpected Guests. 

Howells gives most accurate attention to details, and 
shuns exciting incidents and sensational scenes. He 
depicts the most ordinary events, deals with the motives 
and inner workings of the heart and mind, and so endows 
his stories with a realism which makes the reader feel 
that he is in an actual world surrounded by living, 
breathing, thinking, acting people. Abemethy, in his 
American Literature, says : 'The one great weakness of 
Howells' novels is their lack of high significance ; the se- 
verest criticism upon them is that one is seldom impelled 
to read them a second time. The characters are never 
inspiring. The reader's vanity is flattered by discovering 
that the people of literature are just mediocre, unimpas- 
sioned people like himself. . . . The female charac- 
ters in his novels are for the most part merely variations 
of a single type, the well-dressed, shallow, illogical 
woman, capable only of spasmodic goodness, conversa- 
tional inanity, and delicate duphcity. . . . His ex- 
pression takes the form of a peculiar simplicity, secured 
by a bold use of common words, selected, however, with 
an unerring sense of fitness, and by a happy use of 
familiar idioms and current slang. He is master of a 
refined, playful, half-concealed humor, emitted from the 
text like the odors from mellow fruit, a humor that is 
constantly and tantalizing shading into irony. Humor, 
grace, and lucidity constitute the indisputable charm of 
his prose." 



BEET HAETE 



333 



Suggested Readings : — Their Wedding Journey, The 
Rise of Silas Lapham. 

BRET HARTE. 
I 839- 1902. 

BRET Harte is justly termed by his biographer, 
G. Edgar Pemberton, "one of America's greatest 
literary sons, poets and humorists." To him, with Poe, , 
belongs the honor of creating the short story in its per- 
fection, and in the judgment of competent critics he has 
not been excelled in this form of literature, even by the 
gifted author of The Gold Bug. 

Francis Bret Harte was born in Albany, New York, 
August 25, 1839. His father was Professor of Greek in 
Albany College, thus he was early accustomed to a lit- 
erary environment. 

As he was weakly when a child his education was 
somewhat retarded rather than hastened, his father giving 
him instruction while his mother begged him not to force 
the boy. He was eager for information, but not so much 
that to be found in books as in the living world around 
him. 

When Bret Harte was seventeen his father died and the 
youth decided to "go west." He longed for adventure 
and a wider knowledge of the world. 

He reached San Francisco in 1856, when the future 
great city had made but little advance from the crude 
rough early days of 1849, it is this early life in 
what was to be the great metropolis that he has immor- 
talized in his tales. His writings are sometimes said to 
belong to the realistic school, but their very subjects 



334 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITEEATTJRE 



imbue them with romance. The Chinese quarter, the 
Spanish quarter, the haunts of the rough miner were all 
to furnish him with material, and on this stock thus early 
acquired he drew successful!}^ even for his later stories 
written among English fields and lanes, for the last years 
of his life were spent abroad, mostly in England. 

He was successively employed as expressman, junior 
partner in a drug store, printer, and schoolmaster, and his 
experiences in each live again in many of his stories. 

Bret Harte's first writings appeared in The Golden Era. 
He wrote at first anonymously, then signed his articles 
and stories with a modest B, and finally Bret Harte. To 
add to his various experiences he early took part in two 
Indian campaigns, and when the Civil War broke out he 
joined the Volunteer Guard. In 1864 he was appointed 
secretary of the United States Mint. In 1868 he estab- 
lished the Overland Monthly, of which he was the editor 
In this publication appeared some of his best stories 
notably The Liick of Roaring Camp in the first num- 
ber and The Outcasts of Poker Flat, considered by 
many his masterpiece, in the second. 

In 1878 Bret Harte was appointed United States 
Consul to Crefeld, Germany. Here he made many friends 
and he never returned permanently to America. He was 
shortly transferred as Consul to Glasgow, and when 
removed he continued to live in England. His home was 
The Red Elouse, Camberley, in Surrey. He returned to 
America from time to time and contributed to the 
Atlantic Monthly. His later tales were still drawn from 
his early experiences in California. 

As a lecturer Bret Harte was a charming and inter- 
esting speaker. 



BEET HARTE 



335 



His poetry, though largely in the humorous vein, was 
not confined to it. The HeatJicn Chinee was the poem 
that first made Bret Harte famous in England. An 
English writer has said that no poem since Pope's Essay 
on Man had made so many new expressions and phrases 
current in our language. For reflective pathos and deli- 
cate sentiment the two poems, Dickens in Camp and The 
Wind Over the Chimney, and other poems hold their 
own with the best our country has produced. 

Bret Harte was of a modest, retiring disposition. He 
was married and had several children. His friends were 
men of literary or social prominence in England and 
America, but he shrank from notoriety, and equally dis- 
liked autograph and lion hunters. 

He died at his beautiful home in Surrey on May 5, 
1902, and on both sides of the Atlantic his loss was 
sincerely mourned. 



SUGGESTED READING. 



Poems. 
Truthful James. 
Her Letter. 
Dickens in Camp. 
What the Chimney Sang. 



Stories. 
The Luck of Roaring 

Camp. 
Brown of Calaveros. 
Mliss. 

Condensed Novels. 



THE WIND OVER THE CHIMNEY. 

But the night wind cries, ''Despair ! 
Those who walk with feet of air 
Leave no long enduring marks ; 
At God's forges incandescent 



336 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN EITEEATUEE 



Mighty hammers beat mcessant, 
These are but the flying sparks. 

Dust are all the hands that wrought, 
Books are sepulchres of thought ; 

The dead laurels of the dead 
Rustle for a moment only, 
Like the withered leaves in lonely 

Churchyards at some passing tread. 

Suddenly the flame sinks down; 
Sink the rumors of renown ; 

And alone the night wind drear 
Clamors louder, wilder, vaguer, 
'Tis the brand of Meleager 

Dying on the hearthstone here!" 

And I answer, "Though it be, 
Why should that discomfort me? 

No endeavor is in vain. 
Its reward is in the doing, 
And the rapture of pursuing 

Is the prize the vanquished gain." 

TAKING THE LUCK WITH HIM. 

The winter of 1851 will long be remembered in the 
foot-hills. The snow lay deep on the Sierras, and every 
m-ountain creek became a river, and every river a lake. 
Each gorge apd gulch was transformed into a tumultu- 
OLis water-course that descended the hill-sides, tearing 
down giant trees, and scattering its drift and debris 
along the plain. Red Dog had been twice under water, 
and Roaring Camp had been forewarned. ''Water put 



BEET HAETE 



337 



the gold into them gulches," said Stumpy. "It's been 
here once, and will be here again !" And that night the 
North Fork suddenly leaped over its banks, and swept 
up the triangular valley of Roaring Camp. 

In the confusion of rushing water, crashing trees, and 
crackling timber, and the darkness which seemed to flow 
with the water and blot out the fair valley, but little 
could be done to collect the scattered camp. When the 
morning broke, the cabin of Stumpy, nearest the river- 
bank, was gone. Higher up the gulch they found the 
body of its unlucky owner; but the pride, the hope, the 
joy, the Luck of Roaring Camp had disappeared. They 
were returning with sad hearts, when a shout from the 
bank recalled them. 

It was a relief-boat from down the river. They had 
picked up, they said, a man and an infant, nearly ex- 
hausted, about two miles below. Did anybody know 
them, and did they belong here ? 

It needed but a glance to show them Kentuck lying 
there, cruelly crushed and bruised, but still holding the 
Luck of Roaring Camp in his arms. As they bent over 
the strangely assorted pair, they saw that the child was 
cold and pulseless. "He is dead," said one. Kentuck 
opened his eyes. "Dead?" he repeated feebly. "Yes, my 
man, and you are dying, too." A smile lit the eyes of 
the expiring Kentuck. "Dying," he repeated; "he's 
a-taking me with him — tell the boys I've got the Luck 
with me now" ; and the strong man, clinging to the frail 
babe as a drowning man is said to cling to a straw, 
drifted away into the shadowy river that flows forever 
to the unknown sea. — The Luck of Roaring Camp. 



THE GREAT HISTORIANS. 

' ' History is a part of literature when it possesses the distinc- 
tion of style. ' ' — Selected. 

WILLIAM HICKLING PRESCOTT. 
1796—1859. 

PRESCOTT was born in Salem, Massachusetts, May 
4. His father was a distinguished lawyer, a son of 
Colonel Prescott, of Bunker Hill fame. Prepared for 
college in a private school in Boston; graduated from 
Harvard at the age of eighteen. During a frolic when 
the students were leaving the dining-room one day in his 
last college year, young Prescott was hit in the eye with 
a bread crust. He fell senseless to the floor, and, after a 
severe illness, returned to his class with the sight of one 
eye entirely destroyed. Shortly after his graduation, the 
other eye, through sympathy, became very seriously 
affected, condemning him to a life of partial blindness. 
He had intended to become a lawyer, but his cruel mis- 
fortune made this impossible, and, after due deliberation, 
he determined to devote his life to literature. Fortu- 
nately, he had an ample income and could afford a 
secretary to aid him in his chosen work. He spent two 
years in foreign travel, and ten years in studying ancient 
and modern literature as a preparation for his chosen 
profession. Sometimes his eyes were in such condition 
that he could not look at a book for months ; at other 
times he could read about half an hour a day, and this 

338 



WILLIAM HICKLING PEE SCOTT 



339 



divided into periods of five minutes each with long rests 
between ; in his best days, during all the long years of 
his writing, he was never able to read more than two or 
three hours a day. He worked in a darkened room, and 
wrote with a noctograph, an instrument for guiding the 
hand with an ivory stylus over carbonized paper. His 
first work, The History of Ferdinand and Isabella, pub- 
lished in 1837, three years after Bancroft's first historical 
volume, cost him ten of the best years of his life. This 
fascinating period of history had been neglected by Euro- 
pean historians, and the book was an immediate success. 
It fully disproved Dr. Johnson's saying "that no man can 
compile a history who is blind." A success of such bril- 
liancy and magnitude had never before been reached on 
this side the Atlantic, nor, indeed, in the Old World. 

Prescott's studies in Spanish history naturally led to his 
next two themes, the Conquest of Mexico, in 1843, 
the Conquest of Peru, in 1847. His last and greatest 
undertaking was the History of Philip //. He gathered 
a vast number of reference works, and had the work well 
in hand, three volumes having been issued, when he died 
suddenly from a stroke of paralysis. 

He was an ideal historian. There is a glow in Pres- 
cott's writing as rich and strong as the tropical sunlight 
in the regions he describes. His works are filled with 
brilliant scenes and episodes. Probably the severest 
charge ever brought against his histories is that they are 
too interesting to be true. He chose his themes from the 
most glorious period of Spanish history when the love of 
conquest led to the most romantic adventures, and he was 
most thorough and painstaking in all that he undertook. 
His style is distinguished for its vivid descriptions, clear- 



340 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



ness, and unity. He possessed a high love of truth, im- 
partiaHty, and discriminating judgment. His ample for- 
tune and worldly honors did not mar his simplicity of 
character, and he was everywhere loved and reverenced 
for his pleasing manners and kindly disposition. 

GEORGE BANCROFT. 
1800-1891. 

GEORGE Bancroft, though not the founder of 
historical writing, was the first great contributor 
to the brilliant series of historical compositions which are 
now accepted as our standard masterpieces. He was 
born at Worcester, Massachusetts, October 3, and was 
one of thirteen children, whose father, the Rev. Aaron 
Bancroft, fought in the Revolution, and wrote a Life of 
Washington that rivaled the more famous biography by 
Marshall. Graduated from Harvard at the age of seven- 
teen, he continued his studies in Germany, and graduated 
from the University of Gottingen in 1820. Met a large 
number of the great men of Europe, including the famous 
German writer Goethe, the Humboldts, Lord Byron, 
Cousin, etc. After his return home, he held the position 
of instructor of Greek in Harvard for one year, and 
then founded the famous "Round Hill" school for boys 
at Northampton. In this same year he issued his first 
volume, a book of poems, 1823. They were European in 
theme and reflected the influence of continental travel. 

Served for three years as collector of the port of 
Boston, and became Secretary of the Navy during Polk's 
administration, 1845. To him is due the credit of found- 
ing the Naval Academy at Annapolis. Served his coun- 



GEOEGE BANCROFT 



341 



try creditably as United States Minister to Great Britain, 
Russia, and Germany. Was a member of many learned 
societies in Europe, and received the degree of D. C. L. 
from Oxford. 

His great life work, the History of the United States, 
was begun before he left the school at Northampton. 
The first volume appeared in 1834, and for over fifty 
years he labored upon his great work, collecting a work- 
ing library of over 12,000 volumes, and issuing twelve 
large volumes of history so perfect in accuracy, detail, 
and brilliancy that they became standard authority. The 
history extends from the discovery of America to the 
founding of the new government after the Revolution ; 
seven volumes are given to a talented description of 
prominent military and diplomatic events of the Revolu- 
tion, two are devoted to the "Formation of the Constitu- 
tion." 'The merits of this great work," says Abernethy, 
*'are many and substantial, the broad scope and well- 
defined conception of the theme, the strong and stirring 
qualities of the style arising from the author's sustained 
enthusiasm for his subject, the vast stores of information 
skillfully condensed into a clear and consecutive narra- 
tive." In discussing its defects, the same writer says : 
•"He is too patriotic to be truly critical, he is too confident 
of perfection in all things democratic and American ; he 
digresses too much, drawing the reader aside to listen to 
commonplace reflections in morals and philosophy. . . 
And yet, the blooming freshness and exuberance of his 
Americanism and profound faith in democracy give to 
the text a flavor of unrestrained sincerity that one cannot 
afford to exchange for the proprieties of a more modest 
style." 



342 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY. 
1814-1877. 

SOME critics have pronounced John Lothrop Motley 
the greatest American historian, giving as a reason 
for this the high distinction and monumental character of 
his Rise of the Dutch Republic. The clear, strong, pic- 
turesque narrative reads like a novel. *'He made the story 
of Holland as interesting as Athens and Sparta." His 
style is vigorous and full of animation, glowing with the 
enthusiasm of the author. In his portraiture of great 
historical characters, such as Queen Elizabeth, William 
the Silent, Philip H, and Henry of Navarre, he rivals 
even Macaulay. 

Motley was born at Dorchester, Massachusetts, April 
15. At ten years of age he entered Bancroft's famous 
"Round Hill" school. Graduated at Harvard at the age 
of seventeen, and continued his studies in Germany. 
Formed the acquaintance of Bismarck at Gottingen, and 
became his life-long friend. Returning to America, he 
studied law and was admitted to the bar in 1836, though 
he never practiced his profession. Married in 1837. Two 
years later published his first book^ Morton's Hope. It 
was a crude affair and had little success, though it is now 
interesting for its autobiographical revelations, as the 
hero was undeniably the counterpart of himself. Through 
this medium he tells us : *'I was ever at my studies, and 
could hardly be prevailed upon to allot a moment to 
exercise and recreation. I breakfasted with a pen behind 
my ear, and dined in company with a folio bigger^ than 
the table." His second book. Merry Mount, was a fairly 



JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY 



343 



well-told story with a background of New England 
colonial history, but it had no great success. The writing 
of this book probably led him to look deeper into Amer- 
ican history and he saw a striking relation between the 
struggle of the Puritans for religious freedom and the 
struggle of the Netherlands against the tyranny of Spain. 
He determined to write the history of this struggle, and 
was much disappointed when he learned that Prescott 
was engaged in writing Philip II, which would neces- 
sarily cover much of his ground. He visited him and 
of¥ered to give up his subject, but the elder historian 
warmly encouraged him and offered the use of his large 
collection of reference works. Motley went at the work 
with great zeal and patience, spending much time in 
pouring over all manner of "original contemporary docu- 
ments," searching through libraries, etc. He was fifteen 
years preparing the work which appeared under the title 
The Rise of the Dutch Republic, in 1856. It was imme- 
diately successful in England as well as America, editions 
being also published in Germany and France. His inten- 
tion was to produce a large historical work under the 
general title The Eighty Years' War for Liberty. It was 
to be divided into three parts : The Rise of the Dutch 
Republic, The History of the United Netherlands, and 
the History of the Thirty Years' War, — the whole to be 
*'a grand historical trilogy, describing a series of events 
filled with dramatic and thrilling interest, the climax of 
which was the turning-point of modern civilization." He 
wrote the Life of John Barneveld, Advocate of Holland, 
as a kind of interlude between the second and last vol- 
umes of his great trilogy, but Fate decreed that the last 
volume should never be written. Motley, broken-hearted 



344 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATTJRE 



over the death of his wife, died in England, May 29, 
before he had even begun work on the MS. 

Motley served his country as Minister to Austria, and 
later to England. He received the honor of D. C. L. 
from Oxford. 

FRANCIS PARKMAN. 
1823-1893. 
"The historian of the red man/' 

FRANCIS Parkman's life, like that of Prescott, 
was one of marvelous struggle and endurance in 
the pursuit of his cherished work. A weakness of the 
eyes, complicated by a severe nervous disorder, made 
him almost blind. While a sophomore at Harvard young 
Parkman formed the plan of writing a history of the 
French and Indian War. Thenceforth he * 'lived with 
Injun on the brain"; he studied the details of forest Hfe, 
took long walks, exercised violently in the gymnasium, 
learned horsemanship from a circus trainer, — all with 
the intention of fitting himself for a sojourn with the 
savages, in order to learn all about their life. In 1846 
he spent the summer among the Dakota Indians in the 
Rocky Mountains, and returned home with his health 
permanently shattered, unable to bear the light of the 
sun and his nervous system in a perfect turmoil. Soon 
afterward he published The Oregon Trail, a very val- 
uable account of his experiences with the Indians. "It 
was more interesting than one of Cooper's novels, and 
even superior to Irving's Captain Bonneville and Astoria 
in the same field." 

His first historical work, The Conspiracy of Pontiac, 



FEANCIS PARKMAN 



345 



was begun when his nervous disorder was at its very 
worst. Books and documents were read to him whenever 
he could hear. It was but seldom that he could listen 
for more than half an hour at a time, and there were 
days, and even months, when he could not listen at all. 
During his first year's labor the rate of composition aver- 
aged only six lines per day. This work, compared with 
his later books, is a kind of sequel of them all, and prob- 
ably suggested the other volumes, which arranged in 
proper order are: — Pioneers of France in the Nezv 
World, Jesuits in North America, Discovery of the Great 
West, The Old Regime in Canada, New France Under 
Louis XIV, A Half Century of Conflict, Montcalm and 
Wolfe. 

All the work was produced under the greatest discour- 
agements and difficulties, and stands as a monument to 
patience and steadfastness of purpose. "He was himself 
what he pronounced his hero La Salle to be, 'a grand 
type of incarnate energy and will.' Physical suffering 
he endured with stoical fortitude, preserving a sane and 
cheerful temper by sheer self-compulsion." Five times 
he visited Europe in search of material, and with the 
help of competent assistants searched old documents so 
thoroughly that his work will never need revision. He 
visited every important place mentioned in his writings, 
and his books teem with accurate, natural portraitures 
and vivid descriptions. He seldom praised or sym- 
pathized with his characters, and showed his concern 
with their deeds, not with their philosophy or emotion. 
Parkman lived all his life in Boston, and there he died, 
September 8, 1893. Read O. W. Holmes' poem, Francis 
Parkman. 



The man who cannot laugh is not only fit for treasons, strata- 
gems and spoils; but his own whole life is already a treason and a 
stratagem. — Carlyle. 



CHAPTER VI. 



HUMOROUS WRITERS 

The man who neglects to laugh is more foolish than the hungry 
man who refuses to eat when a good dinner is set before him. — 
Mark Twain. 



humorous writers. 

Artejvius Ward. Edgar Wilsok Nye^. 

Samuel Langhorne Clemens. 



A LIST OF other MIRTH PROVOKERS. 

Laugh and be fat, sir. — Ben Jonson. 
The most utterly lost of all days is that in which you 
have not once laughed. — Chamfort. 



HUMOROUS WRITERS. 



Then let us laugh. It is the cheapest luxury man enjoys, and 
is worth a hundred groans in any state of the market. — Charles 
Lamb. 

America has a rich fund of humorous writings of a 
type all her own from the shrewd-witted down East 
Yankee, "Hosea Biglow," with his strong common sense 
mixed with droll witticisms, to the flippant, irreverent 
"funny man," who treats with equal liberty the sacred 
and the profane, and who takes delight in showing up 
the comic side of serious things and in making audacious 
use of scriptural quotations. All types of humor depend 
particularly upon the effective use of contradiction and 
anti-climax. Note the elements in the following: — 
A ginooine statesman should be on his guard, 
Ef he miLst hev beliefs, nut to b'lieve 'em tu hard. 

— Rosea Biglow. 

** These to the printer," 1 exclaimed. 

And, in my humorous way, 
I added (as a trifling jest), 

< * There '11 be the devil to pay. ' ' 

— Holmes. 

To move John you must make your fulcrum of solid 
beef and pudding; an abstract idea will do for Jonathan. 
— Hosea Biglow. 

They braced my aunt against a board 
To make her straight and tall; 
349 



350 



STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITERATURE 



They laced her up, they starved her down, 

To make her light and small; 
They pinched her feet, they singed her hair, 

They screwed it up with pins, — 
Oh, never mortal suffered more 

In penance for her sins. 

— Holmes. 

Always live within your income, if you have to borrow money 
to do it. — Artemus Ward. 

It is better to kno less than to kno so mutch that ain't so. 

— Josh Billings. 

Boss: How many ab' yees are down here? 
Voice from Below : T 'roe. 

Boss: Half of yees lower yer 'selves up and help Moike wid de 
poipe. 

A landlady was much surprised because one of her eccentric 
boarders always said Hebrews 13:8 every time as he sat down to 
a meal. Day after day, — morning, noon, and night, — the good 
lady heard Hebrews 13:8 until her curiosity was so piqued that 
Bhe searched her Bible. She was much shocked, perhaps you will 
be, too, when you read the verse. 

The first original Yankee from "jest about the middle 
of daown East" was "Major Jack Downing," a creation 
of Seba Smith in his "Downing Letters" of 1830. This 
calculating, keen-witted Yankee stimulated many writ- 
ers to try their pen at fun-making. 

Other well-known humorous writers who followed 
quickly in the footsteps of this first Yankee from down 
East were Hosea Biglow and The Autocrat. We have 
spoken of their work in previous pages, as well as deal- 
ing with the humorous strain of various other writers. 
Among the well-known authors who have made an espe- 
cial business of being "funny men" and who have won 



ARTEMUS WAED 



351 



fame through their mirth-provoking powers are: Artc- 
mus Ward, Mark Twain, Bill Nye, Josh Billings, John 
Kendrick Bangs, Robert Burdette, and scores of lesser 
fame. We have space in these pages to dwell at length 
only on the first three mentioned. The other writers may 
be studied fully if the teacher desires. 

ARTEMUS WARD. 
1834-1867. 

C3ARLES Farrar Browne, who, under the name 
of "Artemus Ward," delighted America and 
England with his genial wit and drollery, in which there 
was never a grain of malice, was born April 26, 
1834, at Waterford, Maine. He died of consumption 
March 26, 1867. Up to the hour of his death he 
was engaged in adding to the amusement of his fellow 
creatures and an unfinished paper found after his death 
was a droll commentary on the ''disagreement" of vari- 
ous doctors who attended him. He lectured to delighted 
audiences to within a few days of his death and was often 
so ill that he could hardly dress for the nightly exhibi- 
tion. His personality was a distinct surprise to the Eng- 
lish audiences, comprising the most distinguished men 
and women in society, literature and politics, who 
crowded to hear him. His letters to Punch and 
other writings with their grotesque misspelling and their 
representation of the writer as a jolly illiterate itinerant 
showman did not prepare his hearers for the refined 
delicate man dressed in faultless evening attire who 
stepped before the curtain of his "show" and with white 
refined hands holding now a fishing rod and again ajn 



352 STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITEEATUEE 



umbrella or a riding whip, pointed out the various fea- 
tures of his ''pictures." While he made his audience 
roar with laughter he himself remained grave and even 
mournful in appearance, which is said to have added to 
the comic effect of his delivery. 

The wit of Artemus Ward is distinctively American, 
a combination of drollery and common sense. "You 
hardly know what it is that makes you laugh outright." 
Artemus Ward's father, Levi Browne, was a land sur- 
veyor and Justice of the Peace. His mother, Caroline I. 
Browne, was a descendant of the Puritans. Comment- 
ing on his Puritan origin Artemus once said : "I think 
we came from. Jerusalem, for my father's name was Levi, 
and we had a Moses and a Nathan in the family, but my 
poor brother's name was Cyrus, so perhaps that makes 
us Persians." The buoyancy and fun which pervade 
Artemus Ward's relations, business and friendly, with 
his fellow men remind us of that other bright spirit, 
Robert Louis Stevenson. 

After but a partial education at the Waterford school 
Charles was apprenticed in a printing office, his father 
wishing him to learn that trade. He soon left the first 
office and entered that of the Carpet Bag (edited by 
B. P. Shillaber, "Mrs. Partington"), and it was in his 
sixteenth year, while engaged in "setting up" the writ- 
ings of "Miles O'Reilly," John G. Saxe and others that 
he made his own first contribution to literature, writing! 
it in a disguised hand and putting it secretly in the edi- 
torial box. He had the delight of setting it up the next] 
day. 

He then traveled as journeyman printer through Mas-j 
sachusetts and New York and finally settled in Toledo,! 



ARTEMUS WARD 



353 



where his sarcastic but always good natured articles in 
the Toledo Commercial soon won for him considerable 
local reputation. As a result he became local reporter 
for the Cleveland Plaindealer at the not exorbitant salary 
of twelve dollars a week. He was not successful as a 
news reporter, but became an adept at writing burlesque 
accounts of public occurrences, prize fights, spiritual 
meetings, etc. His ''answers to correspondents" would 
be conceived in the following vein: 

Veritas. Many make the same error. Mr. Key, who wrote the 
Star Spangled Banner, is not the author of Hamlet: a tragedy. 
He wrote the banner business and assisted in * ' The Female 
Pirate," hut did not write Hamlet. Hamlet was written by a 
talented but unscrupulous man named Macbeth, afterwards tried 
and executed for "murdering sleep." 

It was while writing for the Plaindealer that Browne 
first signed the sobriquet Artemus Ward and first as- 
sumed the character of the "possessor of a moral show, 
consisting of three moral bares, the kangaroo (a amooz- 
ing little rascal ; 'twould make you larf yourself to death 
to see the little kuss jump and squeal), wax figures of 
G. Washington, etc." This communication, copied in 
hundreds of papers, made Charles Browne henceforth 
famous as Artemus Ward. 

He went to New York in i860, where he first assisted 
and then succeeded Leland as editor of Vanity Fair, a 
humorous paper in which many of his best contribu- 
tions were given to the public. When Vanity Fair ceased 
to exist Artemus Ward entered the lecture field and was 
successful from the first. As lecturer he traveled exten- 
sively in the United States and finally went to England, 
where he was enthusiastically received : "Charles Reade, 
the novelist, was his warm friend and enthusiastic ad- 



354 STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITEEATURE 



mirer, and Mr. Andrew Holliday introdnced him to the 
'Literary Ckib,' where he became a great favorite. Mark 
Lemon came to him and asked him to become a contrib- 
utor to Punch, which he did. His Punch letters were 
more remarked than any other current matter. "There 
was hardly a club meeting or a dinner at which they 
were not discussed. ... It was admitted that Punch 
had contained nothing better since the days of 'Yellow- 
plush.' This opinion was shared by the Times, the lit- 
erary reviews, and the gayest leaders of society. The 
publishers of Punch posted up his name in large letters 
over their shop in Fleet street, and Artemus delighted to 
point it out to his friends.""^ About this time he wrote to 
a friend in America : 

' ' This is the proudest moment of my life. To hare been as 
well appreciated here as at home ; to have written for the oldest 
comic journal in the English language, received mention vcith 
Hood and Jerrold and Hook, and to have my picture and my 
pseudonym as common in London as in New York, is enough for 

' ' Yours truly, 

^'A. Ward." 

Artemus went to England in 1866. Besides writing 
for Punch he gave a series of lectures on the ''Mormons." 

The crowds which flocked nightly to hear him became 
larger and larger, hundreds being turned away, but con- 
sumption claimed the maker of so much innocent mirth 
for her own and in the seventh wxek of his engagement 
his lectures were discontinued. He died at Southampton in 
March, 1867, ^ large number of friends and admirers 
attended his funeral. His body was brought back to 
America and buried beside that of his father in Water- 
ford. 

*From biographical sketch of Artemus Ward by Eli Perkins. 



ARTEMUS WARD 



355 



THE DRAFT IN BALDINSVILLE. 
If I'm drafted I shall resign. 

Deeply grateful for the onexpected honor thus confered 
upon me I shall feel compeld to resign the position in 
favor of sum more worthy person. Modesty is what ails 
me. That's what's kept me under. 

I meanter say, I shall hav to resign if I'm drafted 
everywheres I've bin inrold. I must now, furrinstuns, 
be inrold in upards of 200 different towns. If I'd kept 
on travelin' I should hav eventooaly becum a brigade, 
in which case I could have held a meetin' and elected 
myself brigadeer-ginral quite unanimiss. I hadn't no 
idea there was so many of me before. But, serisly, I 
concluded to stop exhibitin', and made tracks for Bald- 
insville. 

My only daughter threw herself onto my boosum, and 
said, "It is me fayther ! I thank the gods !" 
She reads the Ledger. 

"Tip us yer bunch of fives, old faker !" said Artemus, 
Jr. He reads the Clipper. 

My wife was to the sowin' circle. I knew she and the 
wimin folks was havin' a pleasant time slanderin' the 
females of the other sowin' circle (which likewise met 
that arternoon, and was doubtless enjoyin' theirselves 
ekally well in slanderin' the fust-named circle), and I 
didn't send for her. I alius like to see people enjoy their- 
selves. 

My son Orgustus was play in' onto a fioot. 
Orgustus is a ethereal cuss. The twins was bildin' 
cob-houses in a corner of the kitchin. 

It'll cost some postage-stamps to raise this fam'ly and 



356 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 

yet it 'lid go hard with the old man to lose any lamb of 
the flock. 

An old bachelor is a poor critter. He may have hearn 
the skylark or (what's nearly the same thing) Miss 
Kellogg and Carlotty Patti sing ; he may have hearn Ole 
Bull fiddle, and all the Dodworths toot, an' yet he don't 
know nothin' about music — the real, ginuine thing — the 
music of the laughter of happy, well-fed children! And 
you may ax the father of sich children home to dinner, 
feelin' werry sure there'll be no spoons missin' when he 
goes away. Sich fathers never drop tin five-cent pieces 
into the contribution box, nor palm shoe-pegs off onto 
blind bosses for oats, nor skedaddle to British sile when 
their country's in danger — nor do anything which is really 
mean. I don't mean to intimate that the old bachelor is 
up to little games of this sort — not at all — ^but I repeat, 
he's a poor critter. He don't live here ; only stays. He 
ought to 'pologize on behalf of his parients, for bein' 
here at all. The happy marrid man dies in good stile at 
home, surrounded by his weeping wife and children. 
The old bachelor don't die at all — he sort of rots away, 
like a pollywog's tail. 

My townsmen were sort o' demoralized. There was a 
evident destine to evade the Draft, as I obsarved with 
sorrer, and patritism was below Par — and Mar, too. (A 
jew desprit.) I hadn't no sooner sot down on the piazzy 
of the tavoun than I saw sixteen solitary hossmen, ridin' 
four abreast, wendin' their way up the street. 

''What's them? Is it cavilry?" 

"That," said the landlord, ''is the stage. Sixteen able- 
bodied citizens has lately bo't the stage line 'tween here 



ARTEMUS WARD 



357 



and Scotsburg. That's them. They're Stage-drivers. 
Stage-drivers is exempt !" 

I saw that each stage-driver carried a letter in his left 
hand. 

'The mail is hevy today," said the landlord. "Gin'rally 
they don't have more'n half a dozen letters 'tween 'em. 
Today they're got one apiece ! Bile my lights and liver !" 

"And the passengers ?" 

'There ain't any, skacely, now-days," said the land- 
lord, "and what few ther' is very much prefer to walk, 
the roads is so rough." 

"And how is't with you?" I inquired of the editor of 
the Bugle-Horn of Liberty, who sot near me. 

"I can't go," he sed, shakin' his head in a wise way. 
"Ordinarily I should delight to wade in gore, but my 
bleedin' country bids me stay at home. It is imperatively 
necessary that I remain here for the purpose of an- 
nouncin', from week to week, that our Gov'ment is about 
to take vigorous measures to put down the rebellion !" 

I strolled into the village oyster-saloon, where I found 
Dr. Schwarzey, a leadin' citizen, in a state of mind which 
showed that he'd bin histin' in more'n his share of pizen. 

"Hellow, old Beeswax," he bellered ; "how's yer grand- 
dams ? When you goin' to feed your stuffed animils ?" 

"What's the matter with the eminent physician?" I 
pleasantly inquired. 

"This," he said; "this is what's the matter. I'm a 
habit-ooal drunkard ! I'm exempt !" 

"Jes' so." 



358 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



SAMUEL LANGHORNE CLEMENS. 
1835- 

''Mark Twain/' Our most celebrated humorist, 

SAMUEL Langhorne Clemens, kiiown throughout 
the world as Mark Twain, was born in Florida 
in 1835, though most of his early boyhood was 
passed at Hannibal, Mo., where he attended the village 
school. Was apprenticed to a printer at the age of 
thirteen and worked at this trade later in St. Louis, 
Cincinnati, Philadelphia, and New York. During his 
early boyhood he was always dreaming about piloting on 
a Mississippi steamboat, and to accomplish this feat was 
the height of his ambition. At the age of sixteen he 
realized his dreams, and the story of his pilot life was 
told in after years in his Life on the Mississippi. In 
1 86 1 he served as private secretary to his brother, who 
was secretary of the territory of Nevada. After leaving 
this position, he began his literary labors as editor of the 
Virginia City Enterprise. Here his pseudonym, Mark 
Twain, was first used. The expression had become very 
familiar to him while piloting on the Mississippi, — ^the 
leadsman, in sounding a depth of two fathoms, always 
called out, "Mark Twain !" 

In 1865, Clemens became a reporter on the staff of the 
San Francisco Morning Call, relieved the monotony of 
his newspaper work by occasional unsuccessful attempts 
at gold digging and by a six months' trip to the Sandwich 
Islands. Entered the lecture field on his return, touring 
through California and Nevada, his reception everywhere 
proving that he had, indeed, the gift of humor. Later he 



SAMUEL LANGHORNE CLEMENS 359 



edited a paper in Buffalo, and finally married and settled 
down in Hartford, where he lived in friendly intercourse 
with Charles Dudley Warner, Harriet Beecher Stowe, 
and others. He was in the habit of making very frequent 
informal calls at the Stowes. On returning from there 
one morning, his wife exclaimed: ''There, Sam, you've 
been over to the Stowes again without a necktie ! It is 
really too bad !" Mr. Clemens immediately wrapped up 
his black silk necktie in a neat parcel and dispatched it, 
in company with the following note, to Mrs. Stowe: 

' ' Here is a necktie. Take it out and look at it. I think I 
stayed half an hour this morning. At the end of that time will 
you kindly return it, as it is the only one I have. 

*'Mark Twain." 

Mr. Clemens' first decided literary success was gained 
by the publication of Innocents Abroad in 1869. Curi- 
ously enough, the leading publishers of New York, Phil- 
adelphia, and Boston failed to see any elements of success 
in the original MS. and it was returned again and again 
before a publisher was found. It was welcomed heartily 
by the public, 125,000 copies selling the first three years. 
The author's next work of note was Roughing It, which 
raised shouts of laughter wherever it was read. It was 
a series of brilliant and graphic sketches of the author's 
personal experiences in the rough border life of Utah, Ne- 
vada, and California. Among other of his well-known 
works are: Sketches Old and New; Adventures of 
Tom Sazvyer, and its sequel, Huckleberry Finn, two of 
his best productions; A Tramp Abroad, a series of 
humorous sketches of his own personal experience in a 
trip through Germany and Switzerland; A Yankee at 



360 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



King Arthur s Court; Life of Joan of Arc; Prince and 
Pauper, etc. 

Mark Twain's literary style is especially pleasing, as 
well as mirth provoking. He uses simple words and tells 
his story in a straightforward, interesting manner that 
carries his reader along in breathless suspense. All his 
best works are written autobiographically and are the 
results of his personal experience. His writings have 
been translated into German and have met with a large 
sale on the continent. The Gilded Age, written in con- 
junction with Charles Dudley Warner in 1873, was 
dramatized and met with excellent success on the stage. 

j\Ir. Clemens established the publishing house of C. L. 
Webster in New York City in 1884. The following year 
they published the Memoirs of U. S. Grant, the profits of 
which, amounting to $350,000, were paid to Mrs. Grant 
in accordance with their agreement. This company 
failed eleven years later, and Mr. Clemens found himself 
a poor man and morally, though not legally, responsible 
for large sums due the creditors. He nobly resolved to 
wipe out every dollar of the debt, and at once entered 
upon a lecturing trip around the world, meeting with 
personal welcome and such financial success as his motive 
merited. 

Note. — Have the pupils bring in selections from Mark 
Twain. Read one or two of his best books, such as In- 
nocents Abroad, or Tom Sazvyer, and its sequel Huckle- 
berry Finn. 

UNCLE DAN'L'S APPARITION AND PRAYER. 

(From "The Gilded Age.") 
A deep coughing sound troubled the stillness, way 



SAMUEL LANGHOENE CLEMENS 



361 



toward the wooded cape that jutted into the stream a 
mile distant. All in an instant a fierce eye of fire shot 
out from behind the cape and sent a long brilliant path- 
way quivering athwart the dusky water. The coughing 
grew louder and louder, the glaring eye grew larger and 
still larger, glared wilder and still wilder. A huge shape 
developed itself out of the gloom, and from its tall dupli- 
cate horns dense volumes of smoke, starred and spangled 
with sparks, poured out and went tumbling away into the 
farther darkness. Nearer and nearef the thing came, 
till its long sides began to glow with spots of light which 
mirrored themselves in the river and attended the mon- 
ster like a torchlight procession. 

''What is it? Oh, what is it, Uncle Dan'l!" 

With deep solemnity the answer came: 

"It's de Almighty! Git down on yo' knees!" 

It was not necessary to say it twice. They were all 
kneeling in a moment. And then while the mysterious 
coughing rose stronger and stronger and the threatening 
glare reached farther and wider, the negro's voice lifted 
up its supplications : 

"O Lord, we's been mighty wicked, an' we knows dat 
we 'zerve to go to de bad place, but good Lord, deah 
Lord, we ain't ready yet, we ain't ready — let these po' 
chil'en hab one mo' chance, jes' one mo' chance. Take 
de old niggah if you's got to hab somebody. Good Lord, 
good deah Lord, we don't know whah you's gwine to, 
we don't know who you's got yo' eye on, but we know 
by de way you's a comin', we knows by de way you's a 
tiltin' along in yo' charyot o' fiah dat some po' sinner's 
a gwine to ketch it. But, good Lord, dese chil'en don' 
b'long heah, dey's f'm Obedstown, whah dey don't know 



363 



STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 



nuffin, an' yo' knows, yo' own sef, dat dey ain't 'sponsi- 
ble. An' deah Lord, good Lord, it ain't like yo' mercy, 
it ain't like yo' pity, it ain't like yo' long-sufferin' lovin'- 
kindness for to take dis kind o' 'vantage o' sich little 
chil'en as dese is when day's so many onery grown folks 
chuck full o' cussedness dat wants roastin' down dah. O 
Lord, spah de little chil'en, don't tar de little chil'en away 
f'm dey frens, jes' let 'em off dis once, and take it out'n de 
ole niggah. Heah I is, Lord, heah I is! De ole niggah's 
ready, Lord, de ole " 

The flaming and churning steamer was right abreast 
the party, and not twenty steps away. The awful thun- 
der of a mud-valve suddenly burst forth, drowning the 
prayer, and as suddenly Uncle Dan'l snatched a child 
under each arm and scoured into the woods with the 
rest of the pack at his heels. And then, ashamed of 
himself, he halted in the deep darkness and shouted (but 
rather feebly) : 

''Heah I is, Lord, heah I is!" 

There was a moment of throbbing suspense, and then, 
to the surprise and comfort of the party, it was plain 
that the august presence had gone by, for its -dreadful 
noises were receding. Uncle Dan'l headed a cautious 
reconnoisance in the direction of the log. Sure enough 
"the Lord" was just turning a point a short distance up 
the river, and while they looked the lights winked out 
and the coughing diminished by degrees and presently 
ceased altogether. 

"H'wsh! Well, now, dey's some folks says dey ain't 
no 'ficiency in prah. Dis chile would like to know whah 
we'd a ben nozv if it warn't fo' dat prah ! Dat's it. 
Dat's it!" 



SAMUEL LANGHORNE CLEMENS 



363 



"Uncle Dan'l, do you reckon it was the prayer that 
saved us?" said Clay. 

"Does I reckon? Don't I know it! Whah was yo' 
eyes? Warn't de Lord jes' comin' chow! chow! 
CHOW ! an' a goin' on turrible — an' do de Lord carry 
on dat way 'dout dey's sumfin don't suit him? An' 
warn't he a lookin' right at dis gang heah, an' warn't he 
jes' a reachin' fer 'em? An' d'you spec' he gwine to let 
'em off 'dout somebody ast him to do it ? No, indeedy !" 

"Do you reckon he saw us, Uncle Dan'l ?" 

"Did you feel scared. Uncle Dan'l?" 

''No sah! When a man is 'gaged in prah he ain't 
'fraid o' nuffin — dey can't nuffin tech him." 

"Well, what did you run for?" 

"Well, I — I — Mars Clay, when a man is under de 
influence ob de sperit, he do-no what he's 'bout. You 
might take an' tah de head off'n dat man an' he wouldn't 
scasely fine ic out. Dah's de Hebrew chil'en dat went 
frough de fiah; dey was burnt considable — ob coase dey 
was ; but dey didn't know nuffin' 'bout it — heal right up 
again; if dey'd been gals dey'd missed dey long haah 
(hair), maybe, but dey wouldn't feel de burn." 

"I don't know but what they were girls. I think they 
were." 

"Now, Mars Clay, you knows better'n dat. Some- 
times a body can't tell whedder you's a sayin' what you 
means or whedder you's a sayin' what you don't mean, 
'case you says 'em bofe de same way." 

"But how should I know whether they were boys or 
girls?" 

"Goodness sakes. Mars Clay, don't de good book say? 
'Sides don't it call 'em de He-hrt^ chil'en? If dey was 



364 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATTJRE 



gals wouldn't they be she-brew chU'en? Some people 
dat kin read don't 'pear to take no notice when dey do 
read." 

''Well, Uncle Dan'l, I think that — My! here comes 
another one up the river! There can't be two." 

"We gone dis time — we done gone dis time sho' ! 
Dey ain't two, Mars Clay, dat's de same one. De Lord 
kin 'pear everywhah in a second. Goodness, now de 
fiah an' de smoke do belch up! Dat means business, 
honey. He comin' now like he forgot sumfin. Come 
'long, chil'en, time 3^ou's goin' to roos'. Go 'long wid 
you — ole Uncle Dan'l gwine out in de woods to rastle in 
prah — de ole niggah gwine to do what he kin to sabe 
you agin!" 

He did go to the woods and pray ; but he went so far 
that he doubted himself if the Lord heard him when he 
went by. 

QUESTIONS ON MARK TWAIN. 

1. Briefly sketch the life of Samuel Langhorne 
Clemens. 

2. Where did he get the suggestion for his pen 
name ? 

3. Name some of his best known works. 

4. Tell something about Innocents Abroad. About 
Roughing It. 

5. Discuss the character of MarK Twain's books. 



EDGAR WILSON NYE 



365 



EDGAR WILSON NYE. 
1 850- 1 896. 
''Bill Nyer 

iiT^ DGAR Wilson Nye/' says a prominent writer in a 
S-J sketch of Nye's life, ''was a born 'funny man' 
whose humor was as irrepressible as his disposition to 
breathe air. The very face of the man, while far from 
being homely, as is frequently judged from comic pictures 
of him, was enough to provoke the risibilities of the most 
sedate and unsmiling citizens in any community. When 
Mr. Nye walked out on the platform to exhibit in his 
plain manner a few samples of his 'Baled Hay,' or offer 
what he was pleased to term a few 'remarks,' or to nar- 
rate one or more of the tales told by those famous 
creatures of his imagination known as The Forty Liars, 
— before a word was uttered an infectious smile often 
grew into a roaring laugh." 

"Bill Nye" was born in 1850, at Shirley, a little village 
in Maine. Soon after his birth his people moved to Wis- 
consin, and later, when he was just a small boy, to 
Wyoming Territory. He grew up amid the hardships 
of the wild frontier, and much of the family trials and 
troubles was humorously told by him in his early 
"yarns." Nye was admitted to the bar at the age of 
twenty-six, but the realms of literature proved more 
alluring and he gave up his profession after practicing 
one year. Served as a reporter for a short time and 
then began writing humorous weekly letters for various 
Sunday papers of the West. This work brought him 
good financial returns, while all over the United States 
he was shaking the sides of fun-loving citizens and rap- 



366 STUDIES IN AMEEICAN LITEEATTJEE 



idly winning a reputation as a humorous writer. Estab- 
lished the ''Nye Syndicate" in New York in 1854, 
through wdiich he arranged to have a weekly letter from 
him appear simultaneously in all the leading papers of 
the largest cities in the Union. This was a great success, 
and the humorist rose so rapidly in fame that he began 
touring the country as lecturer. He frequently traveled 
in company with other prominent authors, and for some 
time toured wdth James Whitcomb Riley. An announce- 
ment of their appearance always insured them an enthu- 
siastic w-elcome and a crowded house. Needless to say, 
the people ahvays thoroughly enjoyed the performance. 
Mr. Riley's inimitable rendering of his poems car- 
ried his audience back to the "Ole Swimmin' Hole" and 
other scenes in the "Airly Days," while Mr. Nye's droll 
remarks or a story told by one of the "Forty Liars" 
shook the house in convulsions of laughter. 

Edgar Wilson Nye's latest newspaper work, and prob- 
ably the best known in this line, w^as a series of letters 
purporting to come from an old farmer residing near 
Buck Shoals, North Carolina. They w^ere a mixture of 
rural philosophy and current events which delighted not 
only the farmers — many of whom imagined that he was 
really one of them, — but readers of every class in the 
country at large. Nye's best known book is Bill Nye's 
History of the United States. In this he follows the bare 
thread of actual chronological history narrative, and 
rounds out the whole by droll, comical remarks of 
his own. It was issued in 1894, and was such a great 
success that "Bill" determined to go to Europe and 
wTite similar histories of foreign countries. Before he 
could get his affairs in shape for a long absence from 



EDGAR WILSON NYE 



367 



home, he died suddenly in 1896, at the early age of forty- 
six years. Soon afterwards Mrs. Nye went abroad for the 
purpose of educating her children. The royalty on Nye s 
books provides an ample income for the support of his 
family. 

THE WILD COW. 

When I was young and used to roam around over the 
country, gathering water-melons in the light of the moon, 
I used to think I could milk anybody's cow, but I do not 
think so now. I do not milk a cow now unless the sign 
is right, and it hasn't been right for a good many years. 
The last cow I tried to milk was a common cow, born in 
obscurity ; kind of a self-made cow. I remember her 
brow was low, but she wore her tail high and she was 
haughty, oh, so haughty. 

I made a commonplace remark to her, one that is used 
in the very best of society, one that need not have given 
offense anywhere. I said, "So" — and she "soed." Then 
I told her to "hist" and she histed. But I thought she 
overdid it. She put too much expression in it. 

Just then I heard something crash through the win- 
dow of the barn and fall with a dull, sickening thud on 
the outside. The neighbors came to see what it was that 
caused the noise. They found that I had done it in get- 
ting through the window. 

I asked the neghbors if the barn was still standing. 
They said it was. Then I asked if the cow was injured 
much. They said she seemed to be quite robust. Then 
I requested them to go in and calm the cow a little, and 
see if they could get my plug hat oflf her horns. 

I am buying all my milk now of a milkman. I select 



368 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATOEE 



a gentle milkman who will not kick, and feel as though I 
could trust him. Then, if he feels as though he could 
trust me, it is all right. 

A LIST OF EEFERENCE BOOKS. 

Note. — The following reference works of criticism 
and biography, in addition to the authorized works of 
all the more prominent authors, should have a place in 
the library, and frequent reference be made to each 
to supplement the work in literature. 

Appleton's Cyclopedia of American Biography. 

Initial Studies in American Literature, Henry A. 
Beers. Chautauqua Print. 

How to Tell a Story and Other Essays, Samuel L. 
Clemens. Harper. 

Literary and Social Essays, George William Curtis. 
Harper. 

Yesterdays With Authors, James T. Fields. Hough- 
ton. 

Authors and Friends, Mrs. J. T, Fields. Small. 
Authors at Home, Gilder. Cassell. 
Literary Friends and Acquaintance, W. D. Hozvells. 
Harper. 

Letters to Dead Authors, Andrew Lang. Scribner. 
Pioneers of Southern Literature, Link. Barbee. 
American Literature, Richardson. Putnam. 
Poets of America, Stedman. Houghton. 
Library of American Literature, ii vols. Stedman 
and Hutchinson. 

American Poets and Their Homes, Stoddard. Lathrop. 

Literary Shrines, Wolfe. Lippincott. 

Makers of Literature, Woodberry. Macmillan. 



It is, indeed, the gift of poetry to hfillow every place in which 
It moves; to breathe round nature an odor more exquisite than 
the jierfume of the rose, and to shed over it a tint more magical 
than the blush of morning. — Washington Irving. 



CHAPTER VIL 

THE GREAT BRITISH POETS. 

"Whene'er a noble deed is wrought, 
Whene'er is spoken a noble thought, 

Our hearts, in glad surprise, 

To higher levels rise " 

William Shakespeare. 
Robert Burns. 
William Wordsworth. 
George Gordon Byron. 
Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 
Robert Browning. 
Alfred Tennyson. 



Its use is to lift the mind out of the beaten, dusty, vs^eary 
walks of life, to raise it into a purer element, and breathe into 
it a more profound and generous emotion. — Dr. CJianning on 
Poetry. 



I 



WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. 



1564 — 1616. 

"The Bard of Avon." 
''The Sweet Swan, of Avon." 

The name of Shakespeare is the greatest in our literature; it is 
the greatest in all literature. — Hallam. 

Shakespeare is of no age. He speaks a language which thrills 
in our blood in spite of the separation of two hundred years. 
His thoughts, passions, feelings, strains of fancy, all are of this 
day as they were of his own; and his genius may be contemporary 
with the mind of every generation for a thousand years to come. 

— Prof. Wilson. 

OVER THREE ccnturies have been added to Father 
Time since William Shakspere, the greatest of all 
poets, first contributed his genius to the world, but the 
language which he spoke still thrills in our blood in 
spite of this long period of years. Many of Shakspere's 
imaginary men and women are drawn with such match- 
less power and vividness that they are more real to us 
than the real men and women we meet every day, and 
their influence is much greater. He was a close student 
of human nature and his plays reflect as in a mirror the 
looks, words and actions of the men and women whom he 
met. Always it is the "Caesar" which draws all eyes, not 
the chariot in which he rides, or the robes which he wears. 
As Mrs. Jameson says of Portia : "She treads as though 

*Note — Shakspere died four years before the Pilgrims landed at 
Plymouth. 

371 



372 



STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



her footsteps had been among marble palaces, beneath 
roofs of fretted gold, o'er cedar floors and pavements of 
jasper and porphyry — amid gardens full of statues, and 
flowers, and fountains, and haunting music." Shaks- 
pere was also a lover of Nature and his poetry contains 
some of the most exquisite pictures. 

I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, 
Where ox-lips, and the nodding violet grows; 
Quite over-canopied with the lush woodbine, 
With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine. 
Hath not old custom made this life more sweet 
Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods 
More free from peril than the envious courts 
Here feel we not the penalty of Adam, 
The seasons' difference, or the icy fang, 
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind. 
Which when it bites, and blows upon my body, 
Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say, 
This is no flattery: these are counsellors 
That feelingly persuade me what I am. 
Sweet are the uses of adversity. 
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, 
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head; 
And this our life, exempt from public haunt. 
Finds tongues in trees, books in running brooks, 
Sermons in- stones, and good in everything. 

William Shakspere was born in the month of April, 
1564, at Stratford-on-Avon, a small town in Warwick- 
shire, England. His father was a respectable tradesman 
of much natural ability, but ''innocent of books," who 
served his town first as alderman and then as mayor. 
His mother was Mary Arden, whose ancestors had be- 
longed to the Warwickshire gentry since before the con- 
quest, and two of whom had held places of distinction 



WILLIAM iSHAKSPERE 



373 



in the king's household. Probably the poet inherited most 
of his noble traits of character from the maternal side. 
At the time of his birth Shakspere's parents were in 
comfortable circumstances, but before he was fifteen his 
father's foolish venture in farming, of which he knew 
nothing, impoverished the household, and later the poet 
was the sole support of his parents. 

Shakspere attended the free grammar school of Strat- 
ford, where he was taught English and the rudiments 
of Latin and Greek. Of the results of this classic train- 
ing Ben Jonson, a friend, says : "Shakspere had small 
Latin and less Greek." Later in life he somewhere ac- 
quired a small knowledge of French and Italian. "In 
speaking of Shakspere's education, we must bear in 
mind the fact that such a remarkable genius as he had 
marvelous powers for absorbing knowledge from nature, 
books and daily experiences. . . . No better place 
could be found than Stratford and vicinity for a genius 
like Shakspere to spend his early life." According to 
Dowden : "The country around Stratford presents the 
perfection of quiet English scenery ; it is remarkable for 
its lovely wild flowers, for its deep meadows on each side 
of the tranquil Avon, and for its rich, sweet woodlands. 
The town itself, in Shakspere's time, numbered about 
1,400 inhabitants ; a town of scattered timber houses, pos- 
s^essing two chief buildings — the stately church by the 
river side and the Guildhall, where companies of players 
would at times perform." 

Verily, our Emerson was right when he said that the 
greatest men have the shortest biographies. Little is 
really known of Shakspere's life, though much of un- 
certain authority has been written. For instance, it is 



374 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



said that he was a wayward, profligate young man, that 
he once stole some deer from a nobleman's park, and 
was severely punished, in revenge for which he posted 
some satiric verses on the nobleman's park gate, and was 
obliged to leave Stratford to escape more serious punish- 
ment. At the age of eighteen he married Ann Hath- 
away, a woman eight years his senior, with whom he lived 
very unhappily. Three children were born to them — 
Susanna, the poet's favorite child, in 1583, and the fol- 
lowing year the twins, Judith and Hamnet. The latter 
died in his twelfth year. 

After his marriage he went to London to seek his for- 
tune. Soon after he became connected with the Globe 
theater. His duties were to prepare old plays for the 
stage and to act occasionally when required. After a 
time he became joint owner of the theater, and wrote 
splendidly brilliant plays of his own. His industry in 
the double capacity of actor and playwright soon won 
him fame and success. At the age of thirty-three he found 
himself a rich man, and purchased the finest house in 
Stratford for the accommodation of his family and aged 
parents. In 1602 he purchased an estate of one hundred 
and seven acres near his native town. Here he spent the 
remaining fourteen years of his life, dying after a short 
illness on the anniversary of his birthday, having exactly 
completed his fifty-second year. He was buried in the 
chancel of the parish church at Stratford. (Read Irv- 
ing's account of his visit to the tomb in Stratford-on- 
Avon.) 

The ''silver-tongued" poet's private character seems to 
have been that of an "amiable, gentle and generous man, 
beloved by everybody except the few who were jeal- 



WILLIAM SHAKSPEBE 



375 



ous of his greatness." No one seems to have thought 
anything about recording the personal appearance of 
Shakspere. Aubrey tells us: *'He was a handsome, 
well-shaped man, very good company, and of a very ready 
and pleasant and smooth wit." 

Shakspere's fame rests almost solely upon his plays, 
usually reckoned as thirty-one in number. These are 
naturally divided into the three great classes — tragedy, 
historical drama and comedy. His best known tragedies 
are Macbeth, King Lear, Othello and Romeo and Juliet. 
The most popular historical dramas are Henry V , Rich- 
ard II, Richard III, Henry VIII, Julius Caesar and An- 
tony and Cleopatra. His most noted comedies are The 
Merchant of Venice, The Merry Wives of Windsor, Mid- 
summer Night's Dream and As You Like It. Shaks- 
pere was also the author of one hundred and fifty-four 
sonnets and some miscellaneous works, chief among 
which are Venus and Adonis and The Rape of Lucre ce, 

MEMORY SELECTIONS. 

If to do were as easy as to know what were good to 
do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages 
princes' palaces. — Merchant of Venice. 

All the world's a stage, 
And all the men and women merely players : 
They have their exits and their entrances. 
And one man in his time plays many parts, 
His acts being seven ages. — From As Yon Like It. 

But he that filches from me my good name, 
Robs me of that which not enriches him. 
And makes me poor indeed. — Othello. 



376 



STUDIES IN BEITISH LITEKATUEE 



There is a tide in the affairs of men, 
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortunes ; 
Omitted, all the voyage of their life 
Is bound in shallows and in miseries. 

— Julius Caesar. 

Corruption wins not more than honesty. 

Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace 

To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not: 

Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, 

Thy God's, and truth's. — Henry VIII. 

Love all, trust few, 
Do wrong to none ; be able for thine enemy 
Rather in power than use ; and keep thy friend 
Under thine own life's key ; be checked for silence, 
But never taxed for speech. 

SELECTIONS FOR STUDY. 

It is impossible to give in this volume enough selec- 
tions for the study of Shakspere's style to be of any 
real value to the pupil. Inexpensive school editions may 
be obtained from any publisher of classics. Some little 
time should be given to the study of the following selec- 
tions, and probably the best results may be obtained if 
they are taken up in the order here named : The Merchant 
of Venice, As You Like It, Julius Caesar, and Macbeth. 

GENERAL DIRECTIONS FOR STUDY OF THESE SELECTIONS. 

Note. — ^These suggestions may well be used as an ex- 
amination test after the selections have been thoroughly 
studied, as the published classics will probably contain 
complete suggestions for drill on each. 



WILLIAM SHAKSPERE 



377 



1. Determine to which great class of plays each be- 
longs. 

2. Select passages in each for committing to memory. 

3. Where does the following quotation occur : 

"If I do not put on a sober habit, 
Talk with respect, and swear but now and then ; 
Wear prayer-books in my pocket, look demurely ; 
Nay more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes 
Thus with my hat, and sigh, and say amen ; 
Use all the observance of civility. 
Like one well studied in a sad ostent 
To please his grandam, never trust me more." 

4. Name the principal character in The Merchant 
of Venice, Where is the scene of the play laid ? 

5. Write an abstract of the play. 

6. Tell the story of the three caskets left by Portia's 
father, and of the suitors who came to try their luck at 
winning her. Describe Portia. Describe the successful 
suitor. 

7. Why did Shylock claim a pound of Antonio's flesh? 
How was Antonio avenged ? 

8. Write a description of Portia's and Nerissa's ad- 
venture. 

9. Name the principal characters in As You Like It, 
Where is the scene of the play laid. 

10. Write an abstract of the play. 

11. Quote Jaques' moralizing over the wounded deer. 

12. Name the principal characters in Julius Caesar. 
Where is the scene laid? 

13. Write an abstract of the play. 

14. Tell of the dream of Calphurnia, wife of Caesar. 



378 



STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



How was it interpreted by Decius Brutus? Which 
proved right, the wife's fears or the interpretation of 
Decius ? 

15. Describe the following characters : Caesar, Brutus, 
Mark Antony. 

16. Name the principal characters in Macbeth. Where 
is the scene laid? 

17. Write an abstract of the play. 

18. Describe Macbeth. 

19. In what plays do the following lines occur : 

"Screw your courage to the sticking-place." 

"Throw physic to the dogs ; I'll none of it." 

"But 'tis a common proof. 
That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, 
Whereto the climber upward turns his face ; 
But when he once attains the utmost round, 
He then unto the ladder turns his back, 
Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees 
By which he did ascend." 

"Seven times tried that judgment is, 
That did never choose amiss." 

CRITICISMS. 

Among the most alien races he is as solidly at home as 
a mountain seen from different sides by many lands, 
itself superbly solitary, yet the companion of all thoughts 
and domesticated in all imaginations. . . . But 
higher even than the genius I rate the character of this 
unique man, and the grand impersonality of what he 
wrote. What has he told us of himself? If he had sor- 
rows, he has made them the woof of everlasting consola- 



WILLIAM SHAKSPERE 



379 



tion to his kind ; and if, as poets are wont to whine, the 
outward world was cold to him, its biting air did but trace 
itself in loveliest frostwork of fancy on the many win- 
dows of that self-centered and cheerful soul. 

— LowelL 

He is buried and absorbed in the present image or idea. 
Behind a word he has a whole picture, an attitude, a long 
argument abridged, a mass of swarming ideas. Hence 
his style is blooming with exuberant images — loaded with 
exaggerated metaphors whose strangeness is like inco- 
herence, whose wealth is superabundant. — Taine. 

REFERENCES. 

Studies in Shakespeare, White. ^ 
To the Avon, Longfellow. 
Shakespeare, Holmes. 

Shakespeare in Representative Men, Emerson. 
Stratford-on-Avon in Sketch-Book, Irving. 

QUESTIONS ON SHAKSPERE. 

1. Write a sketch of Shakspere's life. 

2. By what sobriquets was Shakspere known? 

3. Upon what class of work does his fame rest ? 

4. Into what three great classes are his plays divided ? 
Name two representatives of each. 

5. Describe the following characters in wShakspere's 
plays : Portia, Beatrice, Antonio, Rosalind, Juliet, Ophelia, 
Romeo, Hermione, Brutus, Desdemona, Imogen, Mark 
Antony, and Cordelia. 

6. Quote three familiar passages. Quote five lines 
that have become household words. 



380 STUDIES IN BEITISH LITERATURE 



ROBERT BURNS. 



1759-1796. 

Burns is by far the greatest poet that ever sprang from the 
bosom of the people and lived and died in an humble condition. 

— Frof. Wilson. 

I fling my pebble on the cairn 

Of him, though dead, undying ; 
Sweet Nature's nursling, bonniest bairn 

Beneath her daisies lying. — Holmes. 

But who his human heart has laid 

To Nature's bosom nearer? 
Who sweetened toil like him, or paid 

To love a tribute dearer? 



BURNS has made the fields and dales of Scotland along 
the ''banks and braes of Bonnie Doon" immortal by 
his famous peasant songs and poems. 

For now he haunts his native land 
As an immortal youth; his hand 

Guides ever plough; 
He sits beside each ingle-nook, 
His voice is in each running brook, 
•Each rustling bough. — Longfellow. 

Robert Burns, the Ayrshire Ploughman, as his own 
people loved to call him, was born about two miles south 
of Ayr, January 25, 1759. Here his father had a small 
farm near ''Alloway's auld haunted kirk," and the ''bon- 
nie Doon" rippled slowly along a short distance behind 
his little thatched cottage. William Burns was a man of 



*Burns was born the same year as Gen. Wolfe's memorable victory 
at Quebec. 



ROBERT BURNS 



381 



sterling character and intelligence. His wife was a truly 
religiot^, handsome woman, of ready sympathy and deep 
tenderness. She was a devoted mother, and her son 
"Robbie" undoubtedly inherited many of her amiable 
qualities. Burns tenderly depicts his early childhood's 
home in the Cotter's Saturday Night. Who can forget 
the wise counsel of the loving father: 

An ' oh ! be sure to fear the Lord alway, 

An' mind your duty, duely, morn an' night! 

Lest in temptation 's path ye gang astray, 

Implore His counsel and assisting might: 

They never sought in vain that sought the Lord aright! 

And again the blessed picture: — 

Then kneeling down, to Heaven's Eternal King 

The saint, the father, and the husband prays; 
Hope ' * springs exulting on triumphant wing, ' ' 

That thus they shall all meet in future days: 
There ever bask in uncreated rays. 

No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear, 
Together hymning their Creator's praise. 

In such society, yet still more dear; 

While circling Time moves round in an eternal sphere. 

Compar 'd with this, how poor Religion 's pride, 

In all the pomp of method, and of art, 
When men display to congregations wide 

Devotion's ev'ry grace, except the heart! 

Young Burns received a scanty school education, for 
his father was obliged to keep his sons at home to help 
him with the farm work. However, Robert made the 
most of his opportunities, and increased his knowledge 
by studying the very few books within his reach. The 
Burns family loved books, and the limited supply which 
they were able to afford was choice. Besides "the big 



382 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITEEATURE 



Ha' Bible," they had the Spectator, Pope's Works, Allan 
Ramsay's poems, a collection of English Songs, and a 
few other books This small collection young Robert al- 
most knew by heart ; he frequently read while eating his 
frugal meals, "with a spoon in one hand and a book in 
the other." It is said that he wore out two copies of 
Mackenzie's Man of Feeling in this way. Later in life 
he read such standard authors as Thomson, Sterne, 
Shenstone, and others. 

It was while yet the ''Ayrshire Plowman" that he was 
inspired to wish — 

That I for poor auld Scotland's sake 
Some useful plan or book could make, 
Or sing a sang at least. 

His first effort as a poet was in song making. His 
verses were handed around the neighborhood in manu- 
script, and he acquired considerable fame ere he had 
reached his fifteenth year. In 1784 the father died and 
young Robert became head of the family. His brother 
Gilbert assisted him in managing the farm, but they were 
scarcely able to make a living. About this time. Burns 
met and loved Mary Campbell. In 1786 she went to her 
father's home in Argylshire to prepare for her marriage 
and there sickened and died. Many of Burns' sweetest 
songs were penned in her memory. 

Flow gently, sweet Afton, among the green braes, 
Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise j 
My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream, 
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream. 

As Burns' mind expanded, his life as a farm laborer 
became irksome and disagreeable, and finally entirely un- 



ROBERT BURNS 



383 



endurable. Disgusted with everything around him, he 
determined to go to the West Indies, where a number of 
his Scotch acquaintances were reported to be reaping 
great profits. He published a collection of his poems in 
order to pay the expenses of his voyage, but the volume 
at once became so popular and brought him such large 
returns financially that he gave up the idea of going 
abroad. 

"Scotia's bard" at once received an invitation from 
the wealthy people of Edinburgh to pay them a visit. 
He was given a very cordial reception, feasted, flattered 
and lionized, and, ploughman though he was, he behaved 
throughout all the unaccustomed ceremonies as though 
he had been "to the manor born." Following the advice 
of a friend, he now took advantage of his popularity and 
brought out a new edition of his poems. He lived in a 
whirl of admiration, fetes, and flattering attentions for 
over a year in Edinburgh, and then returned to his home 
with some $2,500, the proceeds from his second edition 
of poems. He took a farm near Dumfries, secured for 
himself the office of exciseman, and married an old love, 
Jean Armour, daughter of a poor mason. Again, his 
farming proved a failure, and at the end of three years 
he removed to Dumfries and reHed upon his duties as 
exciseman for the support of his family. He continued 
to exercise his pen, particularly in the composition of a 
number of beautiful songs adapted to old Scottish tunes. 
But his life as exciseman, and the society of the idle and 
dissipated who gathered around him in Dumfries had 
an evil effect upon Burns, whom disappointment and mis- 
fortune were now making somewhat reckless. In the 
winter of 1795 his constitution, broken by cares, irregu- 



384 STUDIES IN BRITISH. LITERATUKE 



larities and passions, fell into premature decline, and a 
rheumatic fever terminated his life and sufferings at the 
early age of thirty-seven. He left a wife and four chil- 
dren in poverty, but his friends kindly circulated a peti- 
tion in their behalf, and later, with the same intent, Dr. 
Currie of Liverpool collected and published four volumes 
of Burns' poems. 

Robert Burns was an honest, proud, warm-hearted 
man, whose character, though marred by imprudence, 
was never contaminated by duplicity or meanness. He 
combined sound understanding with high passions and 
a vigorous imagination, being particularly alive to every 
species of emotion. Sir Walter Scott thus describes his 
personal appearance: "His person was strong and ro- 
bust; his manners rustic, a sort of dignified plainness 
and simplicity. His countenance was more massive than 
it looks in any of the portraits. There was a strong ex- 
pression of sense and shrewdness in all his lineaments; 
the eye alone indicated the poetical character and tem- 
perament. It was large, and of a dark cast, which 
glowed when he spoke with feeling or interest. I never 
saw such another eye in a human head, though I have 
seen the most distinguished men of my time." 

Burns is one of the few poets who have at once ex- 
celled in humor, in tenderness, and in sublimity. He 
ranks next to Shakspere in his ability to express the 
emotions of the human heart. For this reason his songs 
of love, patriotism and pleasure are sung in all regions 
of the globe. Among those best known are Comin 
Through the Rye, Ye Banks and Braes o' Bonnie Doon, 
and O Wert Thou in the Cauld Blast, Burns is chiefly 
a lyric poet. Among his principal poems are Highland 



ROBERT BURNS 



385 



Mary, The Cotter's Saturday Night, To Mary in Heaven, 
and Tarn O'Shanter. 

The Great Bard of Scotia lies beneath a splendid 
mausoleum at Dumfries, and beside him sleeps his world 
weary Jean. Two grand monuments have been erected 
in his memor}^ ; one in the middle of a magnificent gar- 
den overlooking the ''banks and braes of Bonnie Doon," 
the other on Calton Hill at Edinburgh. "Pilgrims from 
every land visit his humble birth-place. Thousands of 
people walk yearly through the fields his peasant songs 
have made immortal. They sit beneath the birchen 
boughs on the banks of the 'Bonnie Doon,' and dream in 
the weird enchantment of 'Alloway's auld haunted 
kirk.' " 

MEMORY SELECTIONS. 

"The rank is but the guinea's stamp ; 
The man's the gowd for a' that." 

— Honest Poverty. 

"But pleasures are like poppies spread, 
You seize the flower, its bloom is shed 
Or, like the snowflake in the river, 
A moment white — then melts forever." 

— Tarn O'Shanter. 

"A prince can make a belted knight, 

A marquis, duke, and a' that; 
But an honest man's aboon his might, 
Guid faith he maunna fa' that." 

—For A' That And A' That. 

O wad some Pcw'r the giftie gie us 
To see ourel's as ithers see us ! 



386 SrUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



It wad frae monie a blunder free us 

And foolish notion!" — To a Louse. 

"Ask why God made the gem so small, 

An' why so huge the granite? 
Because God meant mankind should set 

That higher value on it." — Lines, 

"What is life wanting love? 

Night without a morning! 
Love's the cloudless summer sun, 

Nature gay adorning." — Song. 

"How pleasant the banks of the clear-winding Devon, 
With green spreading bushes, and flowers blooming 
fair! 

But the bonniest flower on the banks of the Devon, 
Was once a sweet bud on the braes of the Ayr. 

— Banks of Devon. 

A PARTIAL LIST OF BURNS's POEMS. 

The Cotter's Saturday Tam O'Shanter. 

Night. The Twa Dogs. 

The Brigs of Ayr. Highland Mary. 

To Mary in Heaven. To a Mouse. 

To a Mountain Daisy. The Jolly Beggars. 

Man Was Made to Mourn. Address to the Deil. 

SONGS. 

My Luve's Like a Red. John Anderson, My Jo. 

Red Rose. O Wert Thou in the Cauld 

O Whistle, and I'll Come Blast. 

to You. Mary Morrison. 



ROBERT BURNS 



Ye Banks and Braes o' Comin' Thro the Rye. 

Bonnie Doon. Afton Water. 

Scots wha hae wi Wallace Honest Poverty. 

Bled. 



HIGHLAND MARY. 

Ye banks, and braes, and streams around 

The castle o' Montgomery, 
Green be your woods, and fair your flowers. 

Your waters never drumlie! 
There sinner first unfauld her robes. 

And there the langest tarry; 
For there I took the last fareweel 

O' my sweet Highland Mary. 

How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk. 

How rich the hawthorn's blossom. 
As underneath their fragrant shade 

I clasp'd her to my bosom ! 
The golden hours, on angels wings, 

Flew o'er me and my dearie ; 
For dear to me, as light and life. 

Was my sweet Highland Mary. 

Wi' monie a vow, and lock'd embrace, 

Our parting was fu' tender; 
And, pledging aft to meet again, 

We tore oursels asunder; 
But oh! fell death's untimely frost, 

That nipt my flower sae early ! 
Now green's the sod, and cauld's the clay. 

That wraps my Highland Mary. 



388 STUDIES IN BEITISH LITEEATUEE 



O pale, pale now, those rosy lips, * 

I aft hae kiss'd sae fondly ! 
And clos'd for ay the sparkling glance 

That dwelt on me sae kindly! 
And mold'ring now in silent dust, 

That heart that lo'ed me dearly! 
But still within my bosorh's core 

Shall live my Highland Mary. 

1. Explain the Scotch phrases. 
11. Who was Highland Mary. 

TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY. 

On the tiirning one dozvn with the plozv, in April, i/86. 
Wee, modest, crimson -tipped flower, ^ 
Thou's met me in an evil hour; 
For I maun crush amang the stoure 

Thy slender stem ; 
To spare thee now is past my power, 

Thou bonnie gem. 

Alas ! it's no thy neebor sweet, ^ 
The bonnie lark, companion meet. 
Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet, 

Wi' speckled breast, 
When upward-springing, blithe, to greet 

The purpling East. 

Cauld blew the bitter-biting north ^ 
Upon thy early, humble birth ; 
Yet cheerfully thou glinted forth 

Amid the storm. 
Scarce rear'd above the parent -earth 

Thy tender form. 



ROBERT BURNS 



The flaunting flowers our gardens yield, 
High sheltering woods and wa's maun shield ; 
But thou, beneath the random bield 

O' cold or stane, 
Adorns the histie stibble-field, 

Unseen, alane. 

There, in thy scanty mantle clad, 
Thy snawie bosom sunward spread. 
Thou lifts thy unassuming head 

In humble guise ; 
But now the share uptears thy bed. 

And low thou lies ! 

Such is the fate of artless maid, 
Sweet flow'ret of the rural shade ! 
By love's simplicity betray 'd. 

And guileless trust. 
Till she, like thee, all soil'd, is laid 

Low i' the dust. 

Such is the fate of simple bard. 

On life's rough ocean luckless starr'd ! 

Unskilled he to note the card 

Of prudent lore, 
Till billows rage, and gales blow hard. 

And whelm him o'er! 

Such fate to suffering worth is given. 

Who long with wants and woes has striven, 

By human pride or cunning driven 

To misery's brink. 
Till wrench'd of every stay but Heaven, 

He, ruin'd, sink! 



390 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 

Ev'n thou who mourn'st the Daisy's fate, ® 
That fate is thine, — no distant date; 
Stern Ruin's plowshare drives, elate, 

Full on thy bloom, 
Till crush'd beneath the furrow's weight. 

Shall be thy doom ! 

1. Explain the Scotch words. Explain what is meant 
by card in the 7th stanza. 
II. Select figures of speech. Classify them. 

QUESTIONS ON BURNS. 

1. Sketch the story of Burns's life. 

2. Name his best known songs and poems. 

3. For what is his poetry famed? Quote three mem- 
ory gems. 

4. Which of the poems given do you like best ? Why ? 

5. Give the different titles which have been applied to 
Burns. 

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.* 
1770— 1850. 

Thou wert as a lone star whose light did shine 
On some frail bark in winter's midnight roar; 
Thou hast like to a rock-built refuge stood 
Above the blind and battling multitude; 
In honored poverty thy voice did weave 
Songs consecrate to truth and liberty. 

— Shelley. 

Of no other poet except Shakespeare have so many phrases be- 
come household v/ords as of Wordsworth. • — Lowell. 



♦Wordsworth was born in the .year of the Boston massacre. 




WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. 



WILLIAM WORDSWOETH 



391 



The violet by its mossy stone, 

The primrose by the river 's brim, 
And chance-sown daffodil, have found 

Immortal life through him. 

— Whittier. 

iiWT ORDS WORTH," says Blaisdell, "was the great 
W master of the Lake School, in which Coleridge 
and Southey were, after him, the most prominent mem- 
bers. The poets of that school took their subjects often 
from among the commonest things, and wrote their 
poems in the simplest style, choosing the ordinary speech 
of educated people as the vehicle of their thoughts. They 
probably went too far in their disdain for the conven- 
tional subjects and ornaments of poetry ; but their prin- 
ciples were sound and healthful, and their labors made 
a deep and lasting impression on English thought." 

William Wordsworth, second son of Lawyer John 
Wordsworth, was born on the 7th of April, 1770, at 
Cockermouth, in Cumberland, England. His parents died 
while he was yet a child, and most of his early boyhood 
was spent in the home of the Cooksons, his maternal 
grandparents, at Pendrith. He attended school at Hawsk- 
head and later entered Cambridge, graduating in 179 1. 
During the four years of his college course he read many 
books and wrote poetry. He was not much in sympathy 
with his college life and delightedly hailed his vacations, 
which he spent in touring through Italy, France, Switzer- 
land, Germany and Scotland. 

"His friends wished him to enter the i:hurch, but he 
was born to be a poet and nothing else. The love of 
poetry was the grand passion of his heart, which grew 
and strengthened with the coming of more mature years." 



392 



STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



His first published volume, Descriptive Sketches, ap- 
peared in 1793. This was followed in the same year by 
An Evening Walk. These poems were sufficiently suc- 
cessful to show the literary public the rise of a new star 
in the poetical heavens, which was destined to shed a 
brilliant luster on the land. In 1795 Wordsworth found 
it necessary to turn his attention to earning a living, and 
thought seriously of entering either law or journalism or 
both. Before he had decided a young friend died, leav- 
ing him nine hundred pounds, and earnestly urging him 
to devote himself to poetry. This he determined to do 
and at once settled himself down in Dorsetshire with his 
sister Dorothy, of wdiom he was very fond, as mistress of 
his home. Here he wrote Salisbury Plain and a tragedy 
called The Borders, which he never succeeded in placing 
on the stage. On one of his tours he formed a lasting- 
friendship with Coleridge, who induced him to become 
his neighbor and settle at Alfoxden. In 1798 the poets 
jointly issued a volume called Lyrical Ballads, to which 
Coleridge contributed one poem — The Ancient Mariner. 
The book was not a success. 

Wordsworth and his sister now removed to Grasmere, 
where they lived nine years. It was in this village, in 
1802, that he married Mary Hutchinson, whom he de- 
scribes in his Phantom of Delight: 

A perfect woman, nobly planned, 
To warn, to comfort, and command; 
And yet a Spirit still, and bright 
With something like angelic light. 

His mind now being relieved from anxiety over money 
matters by the, payment to him and his sister of a debt 
due their father /by the late Earl of Lonsdale, Words- 



WILLIAM WORDSWORTH 



393 



worth determined to carry out his plan of producing a 
great philosophical poem, and accordingly in 1814 
brought forth his masterpiece, The Excursion, which he 
dedicated to his faithful friend, the young Earl of Lons- 
dale. "It brought its author very little money and a good 
deal of abuse," says Blaisdell. "This grand poem is only 
a fragment, a part of a vast moral epic to have been 
called Tlie Recluse, in which the poet intended to discuss 
the human soul in its deepest workings and its loftiest re- 
lations. Its original unpopularity must be ascribed in part 
to the absence of dramatic life and the want of human 
interest, and in part to the novelty of embodying meta- 
physical reasoning in blank verse. Even now, though 
Wordsworth's popularity has grown immensely, The 
Excursion is read by few. Yet it is not all a web of sub- 
tle reasoning, for there are rich studies from nature and 
from life scattered plentifully over its more thoughtful 
groundwork/' 

Wordsworth is best known by his minor poems, which 
display his genius in its simple beauty and unaffected 
grace. ''Such are Ruth, a touching tale of love and mad- 
ness ; We Are Seven, a glimpse of that higher wisdom 
which the lips of childhood often utter ; the classic Laoda- 
mia, clear-lined and graceful as an antique cameo, and the 
lines on Revisiting the Wye, which are so rich in the 
calmly eloquent philosophy that formed the groundAvork 
of all he wTOte." Chief among his remaining works are 
The White Doe of Rylstone, a tale founded on the ruin 
of a Northern family in the Civil War ; Peter Bell, dedi- 
cated to Southey : The Wagoner, dedicated to Charles 
Lamb; Sonnets on the River Duddon, Ecclesiastical Son- 



394 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



nets. Memorials of a Tour on the Continent, Yarrow Re- 
visited, and The Prelude. 

In 1813 Wordsworth removed his family to Rydal 
Mount, in the beloved Grasmere vale. Here in sight of 
those beautiful lakes and under the shadow of those old 
hills which have become inseparably associated with his 
name the poet spent the greater part of his long life. To 
this house, embowered with a profusion of ivy and roses 
and overlooking the silver-gleaming Windermere, came 
such famous visitors as Dr. Channing, Fields, Emerson 
and many other noted Americans, besides his neighbors, 
Coleridge, Southey, Charles Lamb and the famous Dr. 
Arnold of Rugby. In Fields' Yesterdays With Authors 
may be found a delightful picture of Wordsworth in his 
home. Shortly after coming to Rydal Mount his friend, 
Lord Lonsdale, secured for him the office of stamp dis- 
tributor for the County of Westmoreland, which, while 
not requiring heavy duties, brought him the welcome sal- 
ary of £5CX) annually. He held the office until 
well up in the seventies and then resigned in favor of his 
son, receiving a pension of £300 a year. After 
the death of his friend Southey, in 1843, he succeeded to 
the laureateship. He died seven years later, April 23, a 
few days after completing his eightieth year. His body 
was laid to rest in the little churchyard of Grasmere be- 
side his dearly loved daughter, who had preceded him 
to the beauteous shore three years before. 

MEMORY SELECTIONS. 

"Why should we crave a hallowM spot? 
An altar is in each man's cot, 



WILLIAM WORDSWORTH 



395 



A church in every grove that spreads 
Its living roof above our heads." 

"From the body of one guilty deed 

A thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts pro- 
ceed." 

"Honor is the finest sense of justice which the human 
mind can frame." 

"We sail the sea of life; a calm one finds, 
And one a tempest ; and, the voyage o'er. 
Death is the quiet haven of us all." 

"Small service is true service while it lasts ; 

Of friends, however humble, scorn not one : 
The daisy, by the shadow that it casts, 

Protects the ling'ring dewdrop from the sun." 

"To me the meanest flower that blows can give 
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears." 

"O Reader! had you in your mind 

Such stores as silent thought can bring, 

O gentle Reader ! you would find 
A tale in everything." 

Familiar lines from Wordsworth: 

1. The child is father of the man. 

2. What are fears but voices airy? 

3. Soft is the music that would charm forever. 

4. The flower of sweetest smell is shy and lowly. 

5. Hope rules a land forever green. 

6. Heaven lies about us in our infancy. 

7. The stars are mansions built by nature's hand. 



396 



STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY FROM RECOLLECTIONS OF 
EARLY CHILDHOOD. 

There was a time when meadow, grove and stream, 

The earth, and every common sight, 
To me did seem 

Appareled in celestial light — 
The glory and the freshness of a dream. * 
It IS not now as it has been of yore : 
Turn whereso'er I may. 
By night or day. 
The things which I have seen I now can see no more. 

The rainbow comes and goes, 
And lovely is the rose ; 

The moon doth with delight 
Look round her when the heavens are bare ; 

Waters on a starry night 
Are beautiful and fair ; 

The sunshine is a glorious birth ; 
But yet I know, where'er I go, 

That there hath passed away a glory from the earth. 

Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song, i 

And while the young lambs bound 

As to the tabor's sound, 

To me alone there came a thought of grief ; 
A timely utterance gave thought relief, 
And I again am strong. 

The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep — 
No more shall grief of mine the season wrong. 
I hear the echoes through the mountains throng; 

The winds come to me from the fields of sleep, 



WILLIAM WOEDSWOETH 



397 



And all the earth is gay; 
Land and sea 

Give themselves up to jollity; 
And with the heart of May 
Doth every beast keep holiday ; — 

Thou child of joy, 

Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy 
shepherd boy ! 

Ye blessed creatures ! I have heard the call 
Ye to each other make ; I see 
The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee; 
My heart is at your festival, 
?vly head hath its coronal, — 
The fullness of your bliss, I feel, I feel it all. 

evil day ! if I were sullen 
While earth herself is adorning. 
This sweet May morning, 

And the children are culling, *^ 
On every side, 

In a thousand valleys far and wide. 
Fresh flowers ; while the sun shines warm, — 
And the babe leaps up on his mother's arm, — 

1 hear, I hear, with joy I hear ! — 
, But there's a tree, of many one, 

A single field which I have looked upon, — 
Both of them speak of something that is gone ; 

The pansy at my feet 

Doth the same tale repeat. 
Whither is fled the visionary gleam? 
Where is it now, the glory and the dream ? 



398 



STUDIES IN BRITISH LITEEATURE 



Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting ; 

The soui that rises with us, our hfe's star, 
Hath had elsewhere its setting, 
And cometh from afar. 
Not in entire forgetfulnes, 
And not in utter nakedness, 
But trailing clouds of glory, do we come 
From God, who is our home. 
Heaven lies about us in our infancy ! 

Shades of the prison-house begin to close 

Upon the growing boy ; 
But he beholds the light, and whence it flows, — 
He sees it in his joy. 
The youth who daily farther from the east 
Must travel, still is Nature's priest, 
And by the vision splendid 
Is on his way attended : 
At length the Man perceives it die away, 
And fade into the light of common day. 

O joy! that in our embers 

Is something that doth live ; 
That Nature yet remembers 
What was so fugitive ! 
The thought of our past years in me doth breed 
Perpetual benediction ; not, indeed, 

For that which is most worthy to be blest, — 
Delight and liberty, the simple creed 

Of childhood, whether busy or at rest, 
With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast 
Not for these I raise 
The song of thanks and praise ; 



WILLIAM WORDSWORTH 



399 



But for those obstinate questionings 
Of sense and outward things. 
Fallings from us, vanishings, 
Blank misgivings of a creature 

Moving about in worlds not realized. 
High instincts, before which our mortal nature 
Did tremble like a guilty thing surprised, — 
But for those first affections, 
Those shadowy recollections, 
Which, be they what they may. 
Are yet the fountain light of all our day, 
Are yet a master light of all our seeing. 

Uphold us, cherish and have power to make 
Our noisy years seem moments in the being 
Of the eternal silence : truths that wake, 
To perish never, — 

Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavor, 
Nor man nor boy, 
Nor all that is at enmity with joy, 
Can utterly abolish or destroy ! 
Hence, in a season of calm weathfer, 
Though inland far we be, 
Our souls have sight of that immortal sea 
Which brought us hither, — 
Can in a moment travel thither, 
And see the children sport upon the shore, 
And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore. 

^ >:< ^ * ;i; * 

And O ye fountains, meadows, hills and groves, 
Forbode not any severing of our loves ! 
Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might ; 
I only have relinquished one delight 



400 



STUDIES IN BRITISH, LITEE.ATUEE 



To live beneath your more habitual sway. 

I love the brooks which down their channels fret, 
Even more than when I tripped lightly as they, 
The innocent brightness of a new-born day 
Is lovely yet ; 
The clouds that gather round the setting sun 
Do take a sober coloring from an eye 
That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality ; 
Another race hath been, and other palms are won. 
Thanks to the human heart by which .we live. 
Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears, — 
- To me the meanest flower that blows can give 
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. 

DAFFODILS. 
I wander'd lonely as a cloud 

That floats on high o'er oaks and hills. 
When all at once I saw a crowd, 

A host of golden dafifodils; 
Beside the lake, beneath the trees, 
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. 

Continuous as the stars that shine 
And twinkle on the Milky Way, 

They stretched in never-ending line 
Along the margin of a bay; 

Ten thousand saw I at a glance, 

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. 

The waves beside them danced, but they 
Outdid the sparkHng waves in glee ; 

A poet could not but be gay, 
In such a jocund company; 



WILUAM WORDSWjOli™ 



401 



I gazed — and gazed — but little thougtit 
What wealth the show to me had brought. 

For oft, when on my couch I lie * 

In vacant or in pensive mood, 
They flash upon that inward eye 

Which is the bliss of solitude; 
And then my heart with pleasure fills. 
And dances with the daffodils. 

THE WORLD. 
The world is too much with us ; late and soon, 

Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers ; 

Little we see in Nature that is ours; 
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon ! 
This sea that bares her bosom to the moon ; 

The winds that will be howling at all hours, 

And are up-gather'd now like sleeping flowers ; 

For this, for everything, we are out of tune ; 
It moves us not. — Great God ! Fd rather be 

A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; 
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea. 

Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; 
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; 

Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn. 

CRITICISMS. 

I. Wordsworth was the first writer to write singly 
of child life. Before him, the child had been treated as 
part of the family group, and only such characteristics 
mentioned as would be obvious to the most careless ob- 
server. His writings were ever pure and wholesome, 



402 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



illuminating the pathway of daily thought. He said: 
"It is a comfort to me that none of my work contains a 
line which I should wish to blot out because it panders 
to the baser passions of our nature ; I can do no mischief 
by my works when I am gone." 

2. ''Wordsworth's poetry is great because of the ex- 
traordinary power with which he feels the joy offered 
to us in nature, the joy offered to us in the simple pri- 
mary affections and duties ; and because of the extraor- 
dinary power with which, in case after case, he shows 
us this joy, and renders it so as to make us share it." — 
M at t hew Arnold. 

REFERENCES. 

Wordsworth, Whittier. 
Yesterdays With Authors, Field. 
Literary Reminiscences, DeOiiincey. 

QUESTIONS ON WORDSWORTH. 

1. Give a brief sketch of Wordsworth's life. 

2. Quote some familiar Hues that have become house- 
hold words. 

3. Name his best poems. Quote three memory gems. 

4. Describe his home at Rydal Mount. What poem 
is a tender tribute to his wife? Name some of his 
famous friends. 

5. To what common things does Whittier say he has 
given immortal hfe? 



LORD BYEON. 



403 



LORD GEORGE GORDON BYRON * 
1788-1824. 

The popularity of Byron, take it for all in all, was probably the 
most splendid that ever poet M'as applauded and flattered with. 

— Beed. 

Never had any writer so vast a command of the whole eloquence 
of scorn, misanthropy, and despair. — Macaulay. 

GEORGE Gordon Byron was born in London 
in 1788. His father was a disreputable captain in 
the Guards, who spent his wife's fortune and then aban- 
doned her and his child. The mother was a silly, im- 
pulsive woman, and to her injudicious training is at- 
tributed much of the waywardness which marked the 
poet's later life. On the death of his granduncle, young 
Byron, then eleven years of age, became a lord, and heir 
to Newstead Abbey. He was fitted for College at Har- 
row, and then sent to Cambridge where he lived a reck- 
less life, breaking the rules of the university and neglect- 
ing his proper studies. 

While yet in College he brought out his first volume, 
of poems entitled Honrs of Idleness. This was severely 
criticised by the Edinburgh Reviezv, and in revenge he 
wrote English Bards and Scotch Reviezvers, a satire in 
which he not only lashed his reviewer, but also most of 
the notable authors of the day. After a time, he became 
ashamed of himself and vainly tried to suppress the 
poem. 

Byron traveled in Spain, Greece and Turkey for two 
years and then issued his first two cantos of Childe 



♦Byron was born in the third year of the American Revolution. 



404: 



STODIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



Harold. This took the public by storm, seven editions 
being exhausted in one month. Byron was everywhere 
declared to be the prince among poets, and on his re- 
turn to London was rapturously received and almost 
worshiped by his enthusiastic admirers. During the 
next three years came Dara, Bride of Abydos, The Cor- 
sair, and The Giaour. These were narrative poems de- 
scribing the people, manners and customs, and scenery 
of Greece. 

In 1815, Byron married the wealthy Miss Millbank, 
but their union proved unhappy, and the following year 
she went to her father's house and refused to return to 
her husband. Byron could not endure the condemnation 
of the public which followed, and became a wanderer in 
other lands plunging into all sorts of sins and excesses, 
and occasionally sending home for publication the re- 
maining cantos of Child e Harold, and numerous other 
poems. In his own lines, he says : — 

I fly, like a bird of the air, 

In searcli of a home of rest ; 
A balm for the sickness of care: 

A bliss for a bosom unblest. 

Sympathizing with the struggle of the Greeks for 
liberty, he threw himself into their cause, but was 
stricken with marsh fever before he could take the field, 
and died at the early age of thirty-six, April 19, 1824, 
at Missolonghi, Greece. His remains were taken to 
England, and, after lying in state in London, were in- 
terred in the family vault in the village church near 
Newstead. 

Byron was a handsome man, five feet eight in height, 
a lameness of the right foot, though an obstacle to grace. 



LORD BYEON. 405 

but little impeded the activity of his movements. He has 
summed up his own life and character in Manfred where 
the good abbot laments over the sins of Manfred : — 

This should have been a noble creature: he 

Hath all the energy which would have made 

A goodly frame of glorious elements, 

Had they been wisely mingled; as it is, 

It is an awful chaos — light and darkness — 

And mind and dust — and passions and pure thoughts, 

Mixed and contending, without end or order, 

All dormant or destructive. 

MEMORY SELECTIONS. 

'Tis sweet to hear the watch-dog's honest bark 
Bay deep-mouthed welcome as we draw near home ; 
'Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark 
Our coming, and look brighter when we come. 

The drying up a single tear has more 

Of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore. 

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, 
There is a rapture on the lonely shore, 
There is society where none intrudes, 
By the deep Sea, and music in its roar. 

Be thou the rainbow to the storms of life, 
The evening beam that smiles the clouds away. 
And tints tomorrow with prophetic ray. 

"He who will not reason, is a bigot ; he who cannot, 
is a fool; and he who dares not, is a slave." 

"Truth is a gem that is found at great depth ; whilst 
on the surface of this world, all things are weighed by 
the false scale of custom.*' 



406 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



'The thorns which I have reaped are of the tree 
I planted, — they have torn me, — and I bleed; 
I should have known what fruit would spring from such 
a seed." 

FAMILIAR LINES. 

1. The heart will break, yet brokenly live on. 

2. Eyes looked love to eyes that spake again, 
And all went merry as a marriage bell. 

3. All's to be feared where all's to be lost. 

4. There are shades that will not vanish. 

5. I loathe that low vice — curiosity. 

6. What exile from himself can flee? 

7. Stories somehow lengthen when begun. 

8. Happiness was born a twin. 

9. Without hearts there is no home. 

10. Jealousy dislikes the world to know it. 

A LIST OF BYRON's BEST POEMS FOR REFERENCE. 



Childe Harold. 
The Corsair. 
The Giaour. 
Cain. 

Don Juan. 



The Bride of Abydos. 
The Prisoner of Chillon. 
Manfred. 

The Lament of Tasso. 
Lara. 



THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 
There was a sound of revelry by night, 

And Belgium's capital had gather'd then 
Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright 

The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men ; 
A thousand hearts beat happily ; and when 

Music arose Vv^ith its voluptuous swell. 



LORD BYEON. 



407 



Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, 

And all went merry as a marriage bell ; 
But hush ! hark ! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell ! 

Did ye not hear it ? No ; 'twas the wind, ^ 

Or the car rattling o'er the stony street ; 
On with the dance ! let joy be unconfin'd ; 

No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet 
To chase the glowing hours with flying feet. 

But hark ! — that heavy sound breaks in once more, 
As if the clouds its echo would repeat ; 

And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before f 
Arm ! arm ! it is — it is — the cannon's opening roar ! 

Within a window'd niche of that high hall ^ 

Sate Brunswick's fated chieftam ; he did hear 
That sound, the first amidst the festival, 

And caught its tone with Death's prophetic ear; 
And when they smiled because he deem'd it near, 

His heart more truly knew that peal too well 
Which stretch'd his father on a bloody bier. 

And roused the vengeance blood alone could quell : 
He rush'd into the field, and, foremost fighting, fell. 

Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, " * 

And gathering tears, and tremblmgs of distress, 
And cheeks all pale, which but one hour ago 

Blush'd at the praise of their own loveliness; 
And there were sudden partings, such as press 

The Hfe from out young hearts, and choking sighs 
Which ne'er might be repeated : who would guess 

If ever more should meet those mutual eyes. 
Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise! 



408 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, ^ 

The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, 
Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, 

And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; 
And the deep thunder peal on peal afar ; 

And near, the beat of the alarming drum 
Roused up the soldier ere the morning star; 

While throng'd the citizens with terror dumb. 
Or whispering, with white lips — 'The foe ! They come ! 
They come!" 

And wild and high the "Cameron's gathering" rose, ^ 

The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills 
Have heard, and heard, too, have her Saxon foes : 

How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills 
Savage and shrill ! But with the breath which fills 

Their mountain-pipe, so fill the mountaineers 
With the fierce native daring which instils 

The stirring memory of a thousand years. 
And Evan's, Donald's fame rings in each clansman's ears ! 

And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves. 

Dewy with Nature's tear-drops, as they pass. 
Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, 

Over the unreturning brave, — alas ! 
Ere evening to be trodden like the grass 

Which now beneath them, but above shall grow 
In its next verdure, when this fiery mass 

Of living valour, rolling on the foe, 
And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold and low. 

Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, 
Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay, 



LOKD BYKON. 



409 



The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, 
The morn the marshalHng in arms, — the day 

Battle's magnificently stern array! 

The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent 

The earth is cover'd thick with other clay, 

Which her own clay shall cover, heap'd and pent. 

Rider and horse, — friend, foe, — in one red burial blent! 

— From Child e Harold's Pilgrimage. 

Notes. There was a ball given in Brussels on the 
eve of the battle. 

2. In the sixth stanza reference is made to Sir Evan 
Cameron and his descendant, Donald, the "gentle 
Lochiel" of the "forty-five." 

3. The forest of Ardennes is supposedly a remnant 
of that made famous in Shakespeare's As Yon Like It. 

4. If possible, read the whole of Childe Harold's Pil- 
grimage, and memorize beautiful passages. 

THE VISION OF BELSHAZZAK. 
The king was on his throne, ^ 

The satraps thronged the hall; 
A thousand bright lamps shone 

O'er that high festival. 
A thousand cups of gold. 

In Judah deemed divine, — 
Jehovah's vessels hold 

The godless heathen's wine! 

In that same hour and hall, 

The fingers of a hand 
Came forth against the wall, 

And wrote as if on sand, 



410 



STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



The fingers of a man — 

A solitary hand — 
Along the letters ran, 

And traced them like a wand. 

The monarch saw, and shook, 

And bade no more rejoice ; 
All bloodless waxed his look. 

And tremulous his voice. 
"Let the men of lore appear, 

The wisest of the earth. 
And expound the words of fear 

Which mar our royal mirth." 

Chaldea's seers are good. 

But here they have no skill, 
And the unknown letters stood 

Untold and awful still. 
And Babel's men of age 

Are wise and deep in lore ; 
But now they were not sage: 

They saw, but knew no more. 

A captive in the land, 

A stranger and a youth. 
He heard the king's command. 

He saw that writing's truth. 
The lamps around were bright, 

The prophecy in view : 
He read it on that night, — 

The morrow proved it true. 

''Belshazzar's grave is made, 
His kingdom passed away : 



LORD BYEON. 



411 



He, in the balance weighed, 

Is light and worthless clay : 
The shroud his robe of state, 

His canopy in stone; 
The Mede is at his gate. 

The Persian on his throne !" 

1. Compare the poem with the bible account of 
Belshazzar's Feast in the fifth chapter of Daniel, 
n. Note that the sentences in this poem are all of one 
kind. Which are they, simple, complex or com- 
pound ? 

CRITICISMS. 

1. "Byron possesses the splendid and imperishable 
excellence of sincerity and strength." — Swinburne. 

2. ''Byron's writings were at first gloomy and pas- 
sionate; later, they began to disclose a wonderful store 
of wit and humor ; and, at last, bright flashes of wit and 
touches of the tenderest pathos, bursts of eloquence and 
paroxysms of despair, were to be found in one and the 
same poem. In graphic power of description, in passion- 
ate energy, in grace and beauty of style, Byron was with- 
out a rival." — Blaisdell's American and British Authors. 

REFERENCES. 

Life of Byron, Thomas Moore. 

Essay on Byron, Carlyle. 

Essay on Lord Byron, Macaulay. 

QUESTIONS ON LORD BYRON. 

1. Sketch the life of Lord Byron. 

2. Name the best known poems. Quote two memory 
gems. 



412 STUDIES IN BKITISH LITERATUEE 



3. Quote familiar lines. 

4.. Describe Byron's character. What does he say of 
himself ? 

5. To what is his wayward life attributed? 

ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING* 
1806-1861. 

' ' Shakespeare 's Daughter. ' ' 
''Most beloved of minstrels and women." 
* ' The Princess of Poets. ' ' 

ELIZABETH Barrett Browning is the great- 
est female poet that England ever produced. *'I 
hold her worthy of being mentioned with any poet of 
this century," says Bayne. "She has the breadth and 
versatility of a man, no sameliness, no one idea, no type 
character : our single Shaksperean woman !" Among 
her best known poems may be mentioned Aurora Leigh, 
a novel in verse ; Poems Before Congress, in praise of 
the heroes of the fight for Italian liberty and union ; 
Sonnets from the Portuguese, the finest love sonnets in 
our language (these are not, as one might infer, trans- 
lations from the Portuguese, but are deeply descriptive 
of the author's own life, and she probably chose this title 
so as not to identify herself with them) ; Lady Geraldine\s 
Courtship; The Rhyme of the Duchess May; The Cry of 
the Children, etc. 

Elizabeth Barrett was bom at Burn Hall in Durham, 
March 6, 1806. She was the eldest daughter of Edward 
Moulton, who took the name of Barrett on succeeding 



♦Mrs. Browning was born one year before Longfellow, and died the 
first year of our great Civil War. 



ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. 



to some property. While yet a child, her parents moved 
to a country home, Hope End, in Herefordshire. In 
Hector in the Garden and The Last Bower she tells of 
some of her childhood thoughts and amusements. Even 
as a child she had a wonderful intellect, and her proud 
father encouraged her to study many things with her 
tutor that were then almost unknown as studies for girls. 
At eight years of age, with her doll on one arm, she read 
Homer in the original, — while her grandmother com- 
plained that she would rather see neater hemming and 
less Greek. She began writing verses in early childhood, 
find when about twelve years of age composed an epic 
poem in several books on The Battle of Marathon, which 
her adoring father had printed. 

When she was about fifteen years of age she fell from 
her pony and received spinal injuries which made her an 
invalid for life — for many years she was confined to her 
room, and for months at a time to her bed. She con- 
tinued to write and translate poems in spite of her suf- 
ferings, and it is said that she had her Greek books 
bound like novels to evade her physician who opposed her 
studies. Her father lost the greater part of his property, 
and after the death of his wife moved his family to 
London. Here the poet's health improved a little and she 
went to Torquay, where her favorite brother who had 
come to visit her was drowned before her eyes. This 
shock and grief brought on a severe relapse. 

Among the dear friends who brightened Miss Bar- 
rett's days of suffering were Mrs. Jameson, Miss Mitford, 
and her cousin, John Kenyon. It was the latter who 
brought Robert Browning to see her. Their friendship 
soon ripened into love, and one year later, in 1846, they 



414 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



were married, secretly because of the opposition of her 
father. Mr. Barrett never relented, and his sternness was 
the only blot on his daughter's ideally happy married life. 
She wrote to Mrs. Jameson : ''Women generally lose by 
marriage, but I have gained the world by mine." On 
account of Mrs. Browning's delicate health, she and her 
husband made their home at a beautiful villa near Flor- 
ence, Italy. There her only son was born in 1849, and 
there she died, June 29, 1861. She was laid to rest on 
the evening of July ist in the beautiful English burial 
ground at Florence. 'The distant mountains hid their 
faces in a misty veil, and the tall cypress trees of the 
cemetery swayed and sighed as nature's mourners." The 
people of Florence, by whom she was dearly loved, have 
placed a memorial tablet in front of "Casa Guidi," her 
home, on which is inscribed : "Here she wrote and died 
who by her song created a golden line between Italy and 
England." 

Miss Mitford thus describes the personal appearance of 
Mrs. Browning: "A slight, delicate figure with a shower 
of dark curls falling on either side of a most expressive 
face — large, tender eyes, fringed with dark lashes — ^and a 
smile like a sunbeam." 

MEMORY SELECTIONS. 

Life means, be sure. 
Both heart and head, — both active, both complete. 
And both in earnest. 

Books are men of higher stature. 

And the only men that speak aloud for future times to 
hear ! 



ELIZABETH BAKEETT BROWNING. 415 

It takes a soul 
To move a body ; it takes a high-souled man 
To move the masses. * 

The plague of gold strikes far and near, — 

And deep and strong it enters ; 
Our thoughts grow blank, our words grow strange, 

We cheer the pale gold diggers, — 
Each soul is worth so much on 'change. 

And mark'd, like sheep, with figures. 

Earth's crammed with heaven. 
And every common bush afire with God; 
But only he who sees takes ofif his shoes. 

A PARTIAL LIST OF MRS. BROWNING's BEST WORK. 



Aurora Leigh. 
Lady Geraldine's Courtship. 
The Cry of the Human. 
The Sleep. 

Sonnets from the Portu- 
guese. 

The North and the South 
(last poem). 



Rhyme of the Duchess 
May. 

The Cry of the Children. 
The House of Clouds. 
The Lady's Yes. 
Casa Guidi Windows. 
Comfort. 



A CHILD'S THOUGHT OF GOD. 

They say that God lives very high; 

But, if you look above the pines. 
You cannot see our God, and why ? 

And if you dig down in the mines. 
You never see him in the gold; 
Though from Him all that's glory shines. 



416^ STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



God is so good He wears a fold 

Of heaven and earth across His face, 
Like secrets kept from love untold. 

But still I feel that His embrace 

Slides down by thrills through all things made — 
Through sight and sound of every place. 

As if my tender mother laid 

On my shut eyes kisses' pressure, 
Half waking me at night, and said, 

Who kissed you through the dark, dear guesser? 

SLEEP. 
(psalm CXXVIIII, 2.) 
Of all the thoughts of God that are 
Borne inward unto souls afar, 

Along the Psalmist's music deep, 
Now tell me if that any is. 
For gift or grace, surpassing this — 
"He giveth His beloved, sleep ?" 

What would we give to our beloved? 
The hero's heart, to be unmoved ; 

The poet's star-tuned harp, to sweep ; 
The patriot's voice, to teach and rouse ; 
The monarch's crown, to light the brows? 

"He giveth His beloved, sleep." 

What do we give to our beloved ? 
A little faith all undisproved; 

A little dust, to over weep ; 
And bitter memories to make 
The whole earth blasted for our sake ? 

"He giveth His beloved, sleep." 



ELIZABETH BAEEETT BEOWNING. 

"Sleep soft, beloved!" we sometimes say, 
But have no tune to charm away 

Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep; 
But never doleful dream again 
Shall break the happy slumber when 

''He giveth His beloved, sleep." 

O Earth, so full of dreary noises! 
O men, with wailing in your voices ! 
O delved gold! the waller's heapl 

strife, O curse, that o'er it fall ! 
God makes a silence through you all, 

"And giveth His beloved, sleep." 

His dews drop mutely on the hill ; 
His cloud above it saileth still. 

Though on its slope men sow and reap. 
More softly than the dew is shed, 
Or cloud is floated overhead, 

"He giveth His beloved, sleep." 

Ay, men may wonder when they scan 
A living, thinking, feeling man, 

Confirmed in such a rest to keep ; 
But angels say — and through the word 

1 think their happy smile is heard — 
"He giveth His beloved, sleep!" 

For me, my heart, that erst did go 
Most like a tired child at a show. 

That sees through tears the mummer's leap, 
Would now its wearied vision close. 
Would childlike on His love repose, 

"Who giveth His beloved, sleep." 



418 



STUDIES IN BEITISH LITERATURE 



And friends ! — dear friends ! — when it shall be ® 
That this low breath is gone from me, 

And round my bier ye come to weep, — 
Let one, most loving of you all. 
Say, *'Not a tear must o'er her fall — 

He giveth His beloved, sleep." 

CRITICISMS. 

1. "She abounds in figures strong and striking; some- 
times strange and startling; sometimes grotesque and 
weird ; often one may say, unallowable, but always having 
a piercing point of meaning that gives warrant for their 
singularity. She illustrates at will from nature, art, 
mythology, history, literature. Scripture, common life. 
She plucks metaphors wherever they grow and to those 
who have eyes to see they grow everywhere. Occasion- 
ally taking for granted a too great knowledge on the part 
of her readers, even of such as are cultured, her figures 
are covered with the dust of old books and their meaning 
is hidden in a vexing obscurity. But, on the other hand, 
her sentences often are as clear as ice and have a luster 
of prismatic fires." — Theodore Tilton. 

2. "The Brownings are a happy couple, — ^happy in 
their affection and their genius. He is a fine, fresh, open 
nature, full of life and spring, and evidently has little of 
the dreamy element of Wordsworth and others. She is a 
little concentrated nightingale, living in a bower of curls, 
her heart throbbing against the bars of the world." — 
T. G. Appleton. 

REFERENCES. 

Life, Letters, and Essays of E. B. Browning. — Stod- 
dard. Poem, Casa Guidi Windows. — Bayard Taylor. 
Yesterdays with Authors. — Fields. 



ROBERT BROWNING 



419 



QUESTIONS ON MRS. BROWNING. 

1. Sketch the Hfe of Mrs. Browning. 

2. Name her best known poems. Quote two memory 
gems. 

3. With what American events may we connect her 
birth and death ? 

4. What appellations have been given her? Why 
has she been called Shakspere's daughter? 

5. Tell of her married life. 

6. Discuss the influence and the style of Mrs. Brown- 
ing's poems. 

ROBERT BROWNING. 
1812-1889. 

**The Wagner of poets.*' 
''The most intellectual of poets." 
''The great dramatic poet of the nineteenth century." 

ROBERT Browning^ third of that name, was 
born May yth, in Camberwell, where his father was 
connected with the business of a bank. Robert Brown- 
ing, the elder, was a man who combined love of humanity 
and artistic sensibility with sound common sense and 
business ability. The poet's mother, whom he describes 
as "a. divine woman," was with him the object of a 
peculiarly passionate love. He is said to have closely 
resembled her. 

He early gave evidence of great activity of mind, and 
we are told that from the moment he could speak "he 
clamored for something to do." 

Another strong attribute of his childhood was his love 
of animals and tenderness for them ; he could, not bear 



420 



STUDIES IN BRITISH LITEEATURE 



to have any creature hurt and "even stories of the death 
of animals moved him to tears." 

He was quick at books and soon out-distanced his 
companions, his father sparing neither expense nor care 
in the matter of his education, which was furthered by 
masters and tutors as well as school and college. Near 
his home was the famous Dulwich Gallery, which from 
his childhood was a never-ending source of enjoyment, 
while his father's fine library and artistic treasures early 
developed his artistic and intellectual tastes. His poetic 
nature asserted itself when he was very young. "1 
never can recollect not writing in rhymes," he says in a 
letter to his wife, to whom he also relates that his first 
poem was an imitation of Ossian and that as a youth he 
passionately admired Byron. On reaching manhood, 
being called upon by his very loving father to choose a 
profession, he deliberately chose to be a man of letters 
rather than a mone}^ maker. His father assented to this 
and willingly paid all the expenses of printing his gifted 
son's early poems. It was many years before they 
brought any pecuniary return. It is one of the glories 
of America that Robert Browning was widely read and 
appreciated in this country before the general public of 
England was acquainted even with his name. His earlier 
poems were long unappreciated except by a few choice 
intellects, but by these he was at once recognized not 
only as a poet and a great one but as one of the greatest. 
Macready, the great actor, urged him to write for the 
stage; it was for Macready's little son Willie that he 
wrote The Pied Piper of Hamlin, a poem which has 
introduced him to a wide circle of youthful readers, to 
whom his name might otherwise have remained unknown. 



ROBEET BROWNING 



421 



John Stuart Mill was another great man who early 
recognized the genius of Browning. 

In 1846, Browning married Miss Elizabeth Barrett, 
the poet, and on account of her delicate health they went 
to Italy, where they lived till her death fifteen years later ; 
their home for the greater part of this time was the Casa 
Guidi in Florence. Their married life was a most happy 
one ; "all that was noble, ideal and beautiful appealed to 
them." 

They had one son. Mrs. Browning died in 1861 and 
Browning returned to England, where he remained about 
ten years when he again went to reside in Italy, but he 
could never bear to revisit Florence. He wrote much 
during the last years of his life and had the satisfaction 
of seeing his genius recognized and his fame established, 
but personally he never recovered the shock of his wife's 
death. He died in Venice in 1889, and early in 1890 he 
was buried with much pomp in Westminster Abbey. His 
personality was an exceedingly vigorous one. Kindly, 
capable of warm friendships, he is said to have had 
nothing of the dreamer or the poet in his appearance, 
which was rather that of a successful business man. He 
had other traits not usually associated with poets and the 
poetic temperament. His wife said he "could not bear 
to owe five shillings five days," and he was most punc- 
tilious in all his business relations. 

As a poet he conceived largely, gigantically, and his 
imagination utilized the greatest as well as the smallest 
circumstances, facts and objects. He dealt with the soul 
of man and writes : 

As the record from youtli to age 
Of my own the single soul — 



STUDIES IN BBITISH LITERATURE 



So the world's wide book: one page 

Deciphered explains the whole 
Of our common heritage. 



His poetry has been called obscure, and truly it cannot 
be read with laziness or inattention, but to the serious 
reader it will be luminous with the light of noble thought 
nobly expressed. In spite of his long residence abroad, 
Browning remains intensely English in mentality, per- 
haps the most so of any of his contemporaries. The 
robust Saxon conception and expression are his. 



The study of Browning will amply repay the ei¥ort 
that will be necessary; the teacher who shall open the 
world of his poetry to a youthful mind will have bestowed 
a priceless treasure. 

The heroic poems of stirring incident, such as Herve 
Riel, Hozv We Brought the Good News from Ghent to 
Aix, Incident of the French Camp, will appeal to the 
most youthful, and with the Pied Piper of Hamlin may 
serve as introduction. Saul, Rabbi Ben Ezra, Abt Vogler 
will repay study and abound in passages to memorize. 

Explain how Browning dealt chiefly with the soul, with 
conduct and the motives actuating the same. Choose 
certain lyrics as examples of his less serious vein, Pippa 
Passes, The Last Ride Together, etc. 



SELECTIONS FOR STUDY. 



QUESTIONS ON BROWNING. 



3. 
4. 



2. 



I. 



Write sketch of Browning's life. 
For whom was the Pied Piper written? 
What is the character of his poetry? 
Whom did Browning marry? 



KOBEET BROWNING 



423 



5. Where did he and his wife Hve? 

6. Quote two or three passages you admire. 

CRITICISMS. 

The man who, more than any other, will make the 
literature of the nineteenth century speak to the centuries 
to come. — Wendell. 

Since Chaucer was alive and hale 
No man hath walked along our roads with step 
So active, so inquiring eye, or tongue 
So varied in discourse. — Landor. 

His style is that of a man caught in a morass of ideas 
through which he has to travel, — wearily floundering, 
grasping here and there, and often sinking deeper until 
there seems no prospect of getting through. — E. C. Sted- 
man. 

Among Browning's best poems are By the Fireside, 
One Word More, Evelyn Hope, The Pied Piper of 
Hamlin, The Boy and the Angel, Pippa Passes, My 
Last Duchess, Rabbi Ben Ezra, etc. Pippa Passes, the 
most simple and varied of Browning's plays, shows 
every side of his genius, has most lightness and strength, 
and all in all may be termed a representative poem. The 
following stanza, taken from Asolando, Browning's last 
poem, tells the story of his noble spirituality, faith and 
hope : — 

One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, 

Never doubted clouds would break, 
Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, 
Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better. 

Sleep to wake. 



424 



STUDIES IN BRITISH LITEBATUEE 



REFERENCES. 

Victorian Poets. Stedman, 

Life and Letters. Orr. 

Life of Browning. SJiarpe. 

Griswold's Home Life of Great Authors. 

HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS FROM GHENT 
TO AIX. 

I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris and he ; ^ 
I galloped, Dirch galloped, we galloped all three; 
''Good speed !" cried the watch as the gate-bolts undrew, 
''Speed !" echoed the wall to us galloping through. 
Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, 
And into the midnight we galloped abreast. 

Not a word to each other ; we kept the great pace, — ^ 
Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place ; 
I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight. 
Then shortened each stirrup and set the pique right, 
Rebuckled the check-strap, chained slacker the bit. 
Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit. 

'Twas a moonset at starting; but while we drew near ^ 
Lokeren, the cocks crew and twilight dawned clear; 
At Boom a great yellow star came out to see ; 
At Diififeld 'twas morning as plain as could be; 
And from Mecheln church-steeple we heard the half- 
chime, — 

So Joris broke silence with "Yet there is time!" 

At Aerschot up leaped of a sudden the sun, * 
And against him the cattle stood black every one, 
To stare through the mist at us galloping past; 



ROBERT BROWNING 



425 



And I saw my stout galloper Roland at last, 
With resolute shoulders, each butting away 
The haze, as some bluff river headland its spray; 

And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent 
back ^ 
For my voice, and the other pricked out on his track ; 
And one eye's black intelHgence, — ever that glance 
O'er its white edge at me, his own master, askance ; 
And the thick heavy spume-flakes, which aye and anon 
His fierce lips shook upward in galloping on. 

By Hasselt, Dirck groaned; and cried Joris, "Stay 
spur! ^ 

Your Roos galloped bravely, the fault's not in her; 

We'll remember at Aix," — for one heard the quick 
wheeze 

Of her chest, saw the stretched neck, and staggering 
knees, 

And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank. 
As down on her haunches she shuddered and sank. 

So we were left galloping, Joris and I, ^ 
Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky; 
The broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh; 
'Neath our feet broke the brittle, bright stubble like 
chaff; 

Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white, 
And "Gallop," gasped Joris, "for Aix is in sight!" 

"How they'll greet us !" — and all in a moment his roan ® 
Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone ; 
And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight 



426 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate, 
With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim, 
And with circles of red for his eye-sockets' rim. 

Then I cast loose my buff -coat, each holster let fall, ® 
Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all, 
Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear, 
Called my Roland his pet name, my horse without 
peer,— 

Clapped my hands, laughed and sung, any noise bad or 
good. 

Till at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood. 

And all I remember is, friends flocking round, 
As I sate with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground; 
And no voice, but was praising this Roland of mine. 
As I poured down his throat our last measure of wine. 
Which (the burgesses voted by common consent) 
Was no more than his due who brought good news from 
Ghent. 

AMONG THE ROCKS. 
Oh, good gigantic smile o' the brown old earth. 

This autumn morning! How he sets his bones 
To bask i' the sun, and thrusts out knees and feet 
For the ripple to run over in its mirth; 

Listening the while, where on the heap of stones 
The white breast of the sea-lark twitters sweet. 

That is the doctrine, simple, ancient, true; 

Such is life's trial, as old earth smiles and knows 
If you loved only what were worth your love. 
Love were clear gain, and wholly well for you; 



EOBEET BROWNING 



427 



Make the low nature better by your throes ! 
Give earth yourself, go up for gain above ! 

— James Lee's Wife. 

Therefore to whom turn but to thee, the ineffable Name ? 
Builder and maker, thou, of houses not made with 
hands ! 

What, have fear of change from thee who art ever the 
same ? 

Doubt that thy power can fill the heart that thy 
power expands? 
There shall never be one lost good ! What was, shall 
live as before; 
The evil is null, is nought, is silence implying sound ; 
What was good, shall be good, with, for evil, so much 
good more ; 

On the earth the broken arcs ; in the heaven, a perfect 
round. 

All we have willed or hoped or dreamed of good, shall 
exist ; 

Not its semblance, but itself ; no beauty, nor good, nor 
power 

Whose voice has gone forth, but each survives for the 
melodist 

When eternity confirms the conception of an hour. 
The high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too 
hard, 

The passion that left the ground to lose itself in the 
sky. 

Are music sent up to God by the lover and the bard ; 
Enough that he heard it once ; we shall hear it by- 
and-by. — From Abt Vogler. 



428 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



What I aspired to be, 

And was not, comforts me; 

A brute I might have been, but would not sink i' the 
scale. 

^ ^ ;1; :|; ;|! 

Not on the vulgar mass 

Called "work," must sentence pass, 

Things done, that took the eye and had the price ; 
O'er which, from level stand, 
The low world laid its hand. 

Found straightway to its mind, could value in a trice; 

But all, the world's coarse thumb 
And finger failed to plumb. 

So passed in making up the main account; 
All instincts immature. 
All purposes unsure. 

That weighed not as his work, yet swelled the man's 
amount ; 

Thoughts hardly to be packed 
Into a narrow act. 

Fancies that broke through language and escaped; 
All I could never be. 
All, men ignored in me, 

This, I was worth to God, whose wheel the pitcher 
shaped. — From Rabbi Ben Ezra. 

ALFRED ^TENNYSON. 
I 809- I 892. 

Not of the howling dervishes of song, 
Who craze the brain with their delirious dance, 
Art thou, sweet historian of the heart! 



\ 



ALFRED TENNYSON 



42.0 



Therefore to thee the laurel leaves belong, 
To thee our love and our allegiance, 
For thy allegiance to the poet 's art. 

— Longfellow. 

Tennyson is a born poet, that is, a builder of airy palaces and 
imaginary castles; he has chosen amongst all forms the most 
elegant, ornate, exquisite. — Taine. 

ALFRED Tennyson, for forty-two years poet 
laureate, was one of the greatest poets of his 
time. Among the poems which have become favorites 
with his readers may be mentioned: — The Miller's 
Daughter, Idylls of the King, Lady Clara V ere de V ere. 
The Death of the Old Year, Dora, The Talking Oak, 
Locksley Hall, In Memoriam, The Charge of the Light 
Brigade, Crossing the Bar, Enoch Arden, etc. 

Tennyson was born at Somersby, in Lincolnshire, Eng- 
land, of which place his father was rector. He was the 
third of a large family of children. Tennyson entered 
Trinity College at Cambridge, and gained the chancellor's 
medal in 1829 by a poem in blank verse, entitled Tim- 
bnctoo. He was obliged to leave college before he ob- 
tained his degree on account of the death of his father 
in 1830. His first volume, containing some exquisite 
pieces which marked the advent of a true poet, was 
issued in this same year, but it was not received with 
any great favor by the pubHc. Three years later he 
made a similar unsuccessful effort, and the world heard 
nothing more from him for nine years, when he again 
tried to win favor with two volumes of poems. His 
patient efforts were at last rewarded; success crowned 
him, and the way to fame and fortune lay open before 
him. 



430 



STUDIES IN BRITISH LITEEATUEE 



In 1850 appeared his noble poem, In Mcmoriam, writ- 
ten in memory of his college friend, Arthur Hallam. In 
this eventful year also occurred his marriage to Miss 
Emily Sellwood, and his appointment to the laureateship 
upon the death of Wordsworth. Tennyson was a most 
loving husband and father. He was the best loved com- 
panion of his children, ever ready to join them in athletic 
or intellectual sports. He could go botanizing, play 
charades, battledore and shuttlecock, or blow soap bub- 
bles with equal enjoyment. His chief motto in guiding 
the children was ''Make the lives of the children as beau- 
tiful and happy as possible." 

The Idylls of ihe King appeared in 1859. It was 
composed of the following poems, which at once took 
rank as some of the noblest in our language : — The Dedi- 
cation, The Coming of Arthur, Gareth and Lynette, 
Geraint and Enid, Merlin and Vivien, Lancelot and 
Elaine, The Holy Grail, Pelleas and Etarre, The Last 
Tournament, Guinevere, and The Passing of Arthur. 
Many of his best known poems, including Enoch Arden, 
Aylmer's Field and Tithonus, were published during the 
following twenty years. His last volume appeared in 
1880, after which time until his death he occasionally 
contributed poems to the leading periodicals. 

He established his home at Farringford on the Isle of 
Wight in 1853. His death occurred at his summer home 
at Aldworth, October 6, 1892, in his eighty-fourth year. 
The funeral services were held in Westminster Abbey, 
October 12. The choir sang his beautiful poem, Crossing 
the Bar, and his body was laid to rest in the Poets' Cor- 
ner by the side of his friend, Robert Browning. 



ALFEED TENNYSON 



431 



MEMORY SELECTIONS. 

Ring out false pride in place and blood, 
The civic slander and the spite ; 
Ring in the love of truth and right, 

Ring in the common love of good." 

If life be heavy on your hands, 
Are there no beggars at your gate, 

Nor any poor about your lands ? 
Oh, teach the orphan boy to read, 

Or teach the orphan girl to sew ; 
Pray Heaven for a human heart, 

And let your selfish sorrow go. 

•Howe'er it be, it seems to me 
'Tis only noble to be good ; 
Kind hearts are more than coronets. 
And simple faith than Norman blood. 

LADY CLAEE. 
It was the time when lilies blow. 

And clouds are highest up in air, 
Lord Ronald brought a lily-white doe 

To give his cousin, Lady Clare. 

I trow they did not part in scorn : 
Lovers long-betrothed were they ; 

They two will wed the morrow morn, — 
God's blessing on the day ! 

''He does not love me for my birth. 
Nor for my lands so broad and fair ; 

He loves me for my own true worth. 
And that is well,'' said Lady Clare. 



STTJDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



In there came old Alice the nurse, 

Said, "Who was this that went from thee?" 

*'It was my cousin," said Lady Clare ; 
"To-morrow he weds with me." 

God be thanked !" said Alice the nurse, 
"That all comes roimd so just and fair ; 
Lord Ronald is heir of all your lands, 
And you are not the Lady Clare." 

"Are ye out of your mind, my nurse, my nurse 
Said Lady Clare, "that ye speak so wild?" 

"As God's above," said Alice the nurse, 
"I speak the truth; you are my child. 

"The old Earl's daughter died at my breast, — 
I speak the truth, as I live by bread ! 

I buried her like my own sweet child, 
And DUt my child in her stead." 

"Falsely, falsely have ye done, 

O mother," she said, "if this be true, 

To keep the best man under the sun 
So many years from his due." 

"Nay now, my child," said Alice the nurse, 
"But keep the secret for your life ; 

And all you have will be Lord Ronald's, 
When you are man and wife." 

"If I'm a beggar born," she said, 
"I will speak out, for I dare not lie. 

Pull off, pull off the brooch of gold 
And fling the diamond necklace by." 



ALFRED TENNYSON 



433 



"Nay now, my child," said Alice the nurse, 
''But keep the secret all ye can." 

She said, "Not so ; but I will know 
If there be any faith in man." 

"Nay now, what faith ?" said Alice the nurse ; 

"The man will cleave unto his right." 
"And he shall have it," the lady replied, 

"Though I should die tonight." 

"Yet here's a kiss for my mother dear, 

Alas, my child ! I sinned for thee." 
"O mother, mother, mother!" she said, 
"So strange it seems to me ! 

,"Yet here's a kiss for my mother dear, 

My mother dear, if this be so ; 
And lay your hand upon my head. 

And bless me, mother, ere I go." 

She clad herself in a russet gown, — ' 
She was no longer Lady Clare; 

She went by dale, and she went by down. 
With a single rose in her hair. 

The lily-white doe Lord Ronald had brought 

Leapt up from where she lay, 
Dropt her head in the maiden's hand. 

And followed her all the way. 

Down stept Lord Ronald from his tower. 

"O Lady Clare, you shame your worth ! 
Why come you drest like 'a village maid, 

That are the flower of the earth ?" 



434 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



*'If I come drest like a village maid, 

I. am but as my fortunes are ; 
I am a beggar born," she said, 

''And not the Lady Clare." 

*Tlay me no tricks," said Lord Ronald, ^• 
"For I am yours in word and in deed ; 

Play me no tricks," said Lord Ronald, 
*'Your riddle is hard to read." 

O and proudly stood she up ! 

Her heart within her did not fail ; 
She looked into Lord Ronald's eyes, 

And told him all her nurse's tale. 

He laughed a laugh of merry scorn ; 

He turned and kissed her where she stood. 
"If you are not the heiress born, 

And I," said he, "the next in blood, — 

If you are not the heiress born, 

And I," said he, "the lawful heir, 
We two will wed tomorrow morn. 

And you shall still be Lady Clare." 

I. Amplify the poem. 
II. What is the moral of the poem? 
HI. At what time of year does the poem open? Prove 

your answer. 
IV. What is a doe ? What does trozv mean ? 
V. Prepare a list of questions whose answers shall tell 
the story of the poem. 



ALFRED TENNYSON 



435 



CRITICISMS. 

1. Alfred Tennyson is the greatest of modern poets. — 
Stedmaii. 

2. Tennyson's poetry is pure, true, ennobling. No 
blot, no stain mars its beauty. His verse is the most 
faultless in our language, both as regards the music of 
its flow, and the art displayed in the choice of words. As 
a painter no modern poet has equaled him. His portraits 
and ideas of women are the most delicate in the whole 
range of English poetry. His language, although con- 
taining a great number of strong and pithy Saxon words, 
is yet the very perfection of all that is elegant and musical 
in the art of versification. The pleasure which his poetry 
gives springs largely from the cordial interest he displays 
in the life and pursuits of men, in his capacity for appre- 
hending their higher and more spiritual aspirations, and 
in a certain purity and strength of personal feeling. — 
Blaisdell American and British Authors. 

REFERENCES. 

Tennyson's Complete Poems ; Alfred, Lord Tennyson, 
a Memoir, by His Son; Home Life of Great Authors. — 
Griszvold. 

QUESTIONS ON TENNYSON. 

1. Sketch Tennyson's life. 

2. Name five poems. Quote three memory gems. 

3. Which of his poems do you like best? Why? 

4. What do you know of The -Idylls of the King? 

5. Describe the following poems : The Lady of Sha- 
lott, The Miller's Daughter, Dora, Maud, Enoch Arden. 

6. What is said of Tennyson's style? Of his influence? 



**A thousand things which we should have never noticed, in 
which we should never have read God's autographs of beauty and 
of blessing, have been shown us by the poets." 



CHAPTER VIII.- 



OTHER FAMOUS BRITISH POETS, 



GEOFFREY CHAUCER. 
EDMUND SPENCER. 
JOHN MILTON. 
ALEXANDER POPE. 
THOMAS GRAY. 
WILLIAM COWPER. 
SAMUEL COLERIDGE. 



ROBERT SOUTH EY. 
THOMAS CAMPBELL. 
THOMAS MOORE. 
PERCY B. SHELLEY. 
JOHN KEATS. 
THOMAS HOOD. 
JEAN INGELOW. 



Blessings be with them, and eternal praise 
Who gave us nobler loves, and nobler cares. 
The poets, who on earth have made us heirs 

Of truth and pure delight, by heavenly lays. 

—Wordsworth. 



OTHER FAMOUS BRITISH POETS. 

Note. — We have but short space for biography and 
selections from the following famous poets. If the 
teacher desires, the pupils may prepare biographical 
sketches by referring to encyclopedias, etc. The selec- 
tions should be studied carefully in order to get an idea 
of the style and strength of each writer. Other selec- 
tions for study may be found by referring to old school 
readers. 

GEOFFREY CHAUCER. 

1 340- 1 400. 

"The Father of English Poetry!' 

Masterpiece — Canterbury Tales. Other well-known 
poems are The Legend of the Good Women, The House 
of Fame, The Books of the Dutchesse, and The Flower 
and the Leaf. His body was the first to be buried in the 
"Poet's Corner" of Westminster Abbey. ''He had been 
in his grave one hundred and fifty years ere England had 
secreted choice material enough for the making of an- 
other great poet." 

He is the poet of the dawn, who wrote 
The Canterbury Tales, and his old age 
Made beautiful with song; and as I read 

I hear the crowing cock, I hear the note 
Of lark and linnet, and from every page 
Eise odors of ploughed field and flowery mead. 

Sonnet, Chaucer. Longfellow. 

439 



440 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 

In The Canterbury Tales the poet represents himself 
as about to make a pilgrimage to the shrine of Thomas 
a Becket in the Cathedral of Canterbury. Upon stopping 
at the Tabard Inn, he finds a number of others about to 
make the same pilgrimage. The host proposes to act as 
guide to the company, and that to enliven the journey 
each person should tell two tales on the journey out and 
the same number on the return trip, and on the arrival 
of the company in London, he who had told the best story 
should sup at the common cost. Had this plan been 
followed entirely there should have been one hundred 
and twenty-eight tales, whereas there are only twenty- 
five. The following quotations are selected from these 
tales : 

Not one word spake he more than was need: 
All that he spake it was of high prudence, 
And short and quick, and full of great sentence; 
Sounding in moral virtue was his speech, 
And gladly would he learn and gladly teach. 

Truth is the highest thing a man may keep. 
CRITICISM. 

His best tales run on like one of our inland rivers. 
. . . Like the princess in the story, he lets fall a pearl 
at every other word. It is such a piece of good luck to 
be natural ! . . . If character may be divined from 
works, he was a good man, genial, sincere, hearty, tem- 
perate of mind, more wise, perhaps, for this world than 
the next, but thoroughly humane, and friendly with God 
and men. — Essay on Chaucer, LowelL 



EDMUND SPENSER 



441 



EDMUND SPENSER. 
1553-1599. 

To read Spenser is like dreaming awake. — Lowell. 

Greatest poem — Faery Queen, an allegory of six books 
showing the continual warfare of good and evil, and the 
beauty and final triumph of goodness. Minor poems — 
Shepherd's Calendar, The Tears of the Muses, Elegy of 
Astrophel, Mother Hubbard's Tale, etc. Lowell says : 
"Whoever can endure unmixed delights, whoever can 
tolerate music and painting and poetry all in one, who- 
ever wishes to be rid of thought and to let the busy anvils 
of the brain be silent for a time, let him read the Faery 
Queen." The following are selections : 

Take thy balance, if thou be so wise, 

And weigh the wind that under heaven doth blow ; 
Or weigh the light that in the east doth rise ; 

Or weigh the thought that from man's mind doth flow. 

Who will not mercy unto others show. 
How can he mercy ever hope to have? 

REFERENCES. 

Essay on Spenser. — Lowell. Spenser and His Poetry. 
— Craik. 



442 



STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



JOHN MILtON. 

1 608- 1 674. 
''The Blind Poetr 

Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart; 

Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea — 
Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free. 
So didst thou travel on Hfe's common way. 
In cheerful godliness ; and yet thy heart 
The lowliest duties on herself did lay. 

— Wordsworth's Ode to Milton. 

Milton, the poet, the statesman, the philosopher, the 
glory of English literature, the champion and the martyr 
of English liberty. — Macaiilay. 

Masterpiece — Paradise Lost. Other noted works — 
Paradise Regained, Hymn on the Nativity, Lycidas, His- 
tory of England, etc. He was seven years writing Para- 
dise Lost, and received but £18 for it. 'This great 
epic consists of twelve books, and is written in sonorous 
and stately blank verse. Its subject is an embellished and 
much-extended version of the Mosaic account of the fall 
of man, in which the author involves the expulsion from 
heaven of Satan and the rebel angels. It contains pas- 
sages of overpowering eloquence, grandeur of concep- 
tion, and transcendent sublimity of poetic range. The 
work is still largely read and copiously quoted." Para- 
dise Regained was suggested to him by his Quaker 
friend, Thomas Elwood. Lycidas was written in mem- 
ory of a college friend, Edward King, who was drowned 
at sea. 



ALEXANDER POPE 



443 



Milton was three times married, but his domestic 
life was never particularly happy. In his youth he was 
decidedly handsome, both in face and figure. His man- 
ners were simple and unaffected. 

SELECTIONS FROM MILTON. 

The childhood shows the man, 
As morning shows the day. 

He who reigns within himself, and rules passions, 
desires, and fears, is more than king. 

A good book is the precious life-blood of a master 
spirit, embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life 
beyond life. 

God doth not need 
Either man's work, or his own gifts ; who best 
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best; his state 
Is kingly ; thousands at his bidding speed, 
And post o'er land and ocean without rest ; 
They also serve who only stand and wait. 

REFERENCES. 

Essay on Milton. — Lowell. Essay on Milton. — 
Macatilay. 

ALEXANDER POPE. 
I 688- I 744. 

'The Wicked Wasp of Tzvickenham/' 
''The Interrogation P-oinf." 
"The Poet of Society/' 

Best known work, Essay on Man. Other famous writ- 



444 



STUDIES IN BEITISH LITERATURE 



ings : — Rape of the Lock, Diinciad, Windsor Forest, 
Universal Prayer, etc. He was hump-shouldered and 
deformed in body, but he had a brilhant intellect. Of 
him Lowell says : ''If to be the greatest satirist of indi- 
vidual men, rather than of human nature, if to be the 
highest expression which the life of the court and the 
ball-room has ever found in verse, if to have added more 
phrases to our language than any other but Shakespeare, 
if to have charmed four generations make a man a great 
poet, — then he is one." He delighted in landscape gar- 
dening and his home at Twickenham, five acres along 
the Thames,- in the suburbs of London, was a miniature 
Paradise. Walpole said: "Pope has twisted and twisted 
and rhymed this, till it appears two or three sweet little 
lawns, opening and opening beyond one another, and the 
whole surrounded by impenetrable woods." 

MEMORY SELECTIONS. 

With pleasure own your errors past. 
And make each day a critic on the last. 

Judge not actions by their mere effect ; 

Dive to the center, and the cause detect ; 

Great deeds from meanest springs may take their course, 

And smallest virtues from a mighty source. 

Teach me to feel another's woe. 

To hide the fault I see : 
That mercy I to others show, 

That mercy show to me. 

Tis with our judgments as our watches; none 
Are just alike, yet each believes his own. 



THOMAS GEAY 



445 



Conceit is to nature what paint is to beauty; it is not 
only needless, but impairs what it would improve. 
Vice is a monster of such hideous mien 
That to be hated needs but to be seen ; 
Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, 
We first endure, then pity, then embrace. 

fa;miliar lines. 

1. Fools rush in where angels fear to tread. 

2. An honest man's the noblest work of God. 

3. Worth makes the man and want of it the fellow. 

4. To err is human; to forgive, divine. 

5. Heaven from all creatures hides the book of fate. 

6. Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclined. 

7. Hope springs eternal in the human breast. 

8. Order is Heaven's first law. 

9. A little learning is a dangerous thing. 

10. Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul. 

REFERENCES. 

Literary Essays, Lowell. 
English Men of Letters, Stephen, 

. THOMAS GRAY. 
1716-1771. 

Of all English poets, Gray was the most finished artist. 
He attained the highest degree of splendor of which 
poetical style seemed to be capable. — Sir James Mack- 
intosh. 

Best work, Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard. 
Other noted poems : — Ode to Eton College, The Bard, 



446 



STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



The Progress of Poesy. Gray spent eight years upon 
his immortal Elegy. Lowell says: "Gray's great claim 
to the rank he holds is derived from his almost unrivaled 
skill as an artist, in words and sounds ; as an artist, too, 
who knew how to compose his thoughts and images with 
a thorough knowledge of perspective. This explains 
why he is so easy to remember; why, though he wrote 
so little, so much of what he wrote is familiar on men's 
tongues." 

ELEGY \VRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD 

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, ^ 
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, 

The plowman homeward plods his weary way, 
And leaves the world to darkness and to me. 

Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, ^ 
And all the air a solemn stillness holds. 

Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight. 
And drowsy tinkhngs lull the distant folds ; 

Save that, from yonder ivy-mantled tower, ^ 
The moping owl does to the moon complain 

Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, 
Molest her ancient solitary reign. 

Beneath those rugged elms, that yew tree's shade, * *. 

Where heaves the turf in many a moldering heap, 
Each in his narrow cell forever laid. 

The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. 

The breezy call of incense-breathing morn. 

The swallow twittering from his straw-built shed, 



THOMAS CtKAY 



The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, 
No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. 

For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, 
Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; 

No children run to lisp their sire's return, 
Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. 

Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield. 

Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke; 

How jocund did they drive their team afield! 

How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke ! 

Let not ambition mock their useful toil. 
Their homely joys, and destiny obscure; 

Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile 
The short and simple annals of the poor. 

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power. 
And all that beauty, all that wealth, e'er gave, 

Await alike the inevitable hour. 

The paths of glory lead but to the grave. 

Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, 
If memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise. 

Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault 
The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. 

Can storied urn, or animated bust. 

Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? 

Can honor's voice provoke the silent dust, 

Or flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death? 

Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid 
Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire ; 



448 



STUDIES IN BEITISH LITERATURE 



Hands that the rod of empire might have swayed, 
Or waked to ecstasy the Hving lyre. 

But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page 
Rich with the spoils of time did ne'er unroll; 

Chill penury repressed their noble rage, 
And froze the genial current of the soul. 

Full many a gem of purest ray serene 

The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear; 

Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, 
And waste its sweetness on the desert air. 

Some village Hampden, that, with dauntless breast, 
The little tyrant of his fields withstood, 

Some mute inglorious Milton, here may rest, 
Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood. 

The applause of listening senates to command, 
The threats of pain and ruin to despise. 

To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land. 

And read their history in a nation's eyes, — 

Their lot forbade: nor circumscribed alone 

Their growing virtues, but their crimes confined; 

Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne. 
And shut the gates of mercy on mankind, — 

The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide. 
To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, 

.Or heap the shrine of luxury and pride 
With incense kindled at the Muse's flame. 

Far from the maddening crowd's ignoble strife, 
Their sober wishes never learned to stray; 



THOMAS GRAY 



Along the cool sequestered vale of life 

They kept the noiseless tenor of their way. 

Yet even these bones from insuU to protect, 
Some frail memorial still erected high, 

With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture decked, 
Implores the passing tribute of a sigh. 

Their name, their years, spelt by the unlettered muse. 

The place of fame and elegy supply ; 
And many a holy text around she strews,' 

That teach the rustic moralist to die. 

For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey. 
This pleasing anxious being e'er resigned, 

Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, 
Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind? 

On some fond breast the parting soul relies. 
Some pious drops the closing eye requires ; 

Even from the tomb the voice of Nature cries. 
Even in our ashes live their wonted fires. 

For thee, who mindful of the unhonored dead 
Dost in these lines their artless tales relate; 

If chance, by lonely contemplation led. 

Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate. 

Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, — 
''Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn 

Brushing with hasty steps the dews away. 
To meet the sun upon the upland lawn. 

"There at the foot of yonder nodding beech. 
That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, 



450 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITEEATURE 



His listless length at noontide would he stretch, 
And pore upon the brook that babbles by. 

**Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, 
Muttering his wayward fancies he would rove; 

Now drooping, woeful, wan, like one forlorn, 
Or crazed with care, or crossed in hopeless love. 

"One morn I missed him on the customed hill, 
Along the heath, and near his favorite tree: 

Another came; nor yet beside the rill, 

Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood, was he : 

"The next, with dirges due in sad array, 

Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. 
Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay 

Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn." 



THE EPITAPH. 

Here rests his head upon the lap of earth, *® 
A youth to fortune and to fame unknown; 

Fair Science frowned not on his humble birth, 
And Melancholy marked him for her own. 

Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere, 
Heaven did a recompense as largely send: 

He gave to misery all he had, a tear, 
He gained from Heaven ('twas all he wished) a friend. 

No farther seek his merits to disclose, 

Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, 

(There they alike in trembling hope repose,) 
The bosom of his Father and his God. 



WILLIAM COWPER 



451 



SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY. 

1. Be sure to thoroughly understand the poem. 
II. Where was this churchyard located? Ans. Prob- 
ably at Stoke Poegis, where his mother was 
buried. 

•III. Why does Gray speak only of the poor in the 
churchyard? Ans, At that time it was cus- 
tomary to lay the rich inside the church walls. 
IV. Who was Hampden? Ans. A cousin of Crom- 
well, and distinguished EngHsh patriot and 
statesman who refused to pay the ship-money 
tax. 

V. What general in a famous American attack quoted 
the ninth stanza of Gray's Elegy as he floated 
down the river with his troops, saying that he 
would rather have written the poem than to win 
the victory on the morrow? 
VI. What are dirges ? To what does lay in this stanza 
refer ? 

VII. Select famiHar lines from the poem. Select pas- 
sages to commit to memory. 

WILLIAM COWPER. 

1731-1800. 

*'The Great English Letter Writer.'* 

Principal poems : — John Gilpin, The Task, On the 
Receipt of My Mother's Picture, and To Mary. Southey 
says : "He was the most popular poet of his generation 
and the best of English letter writers." In late life he 
was subject to fits of melancholy and partial insanity. 



452 STTOIES IN BEITISH LITEEATURE 

He made his home with his dear friends, Rev. and M 
Unwin. His poem, To Mary, is addressed to M 
Unwin. 

MEMORY SELECTIONS. 

Not to understand a treasure's worth, 

Till time has stolen away the slightest good, 

Is cause of half the poverty we feel. 

And makes the world the wilderness it is. 

Such dupes are men to custom, and so prone 
To rev'rence what is ancient, and can plead 
A course of long observance for its use, 
That even servitude, the worst of ills, 
Because delivered down from sire to son. 
Is kept and guarded as a sacred thing. 

We sacrifice to dress, till household joys 

And comforts cease. Dress drains our cellars dry 

And keeps our larder lean. Puts out our fires. 

And introduces hunger, frost and woe, 

Where peace and hospitality might reign. 

Fashion, leader of a chatt'ring train. 
Whom man for his own hurt permits to reign, 
Who shifts and changes all things but his shape, 
And would degrade her vot'ry to an ape, 
The fruitful parent of abuse and wrong. 
Holds a usurp'd dominion o'er his tongue, 
There sits and prompts him to his own disgrace. 
Prescribes the theme, the tone, and the grimape. 
And when accomplish'd in her wayward school. 
Calls gentleman whom she has made a fool. 



SAMUEL T. COLERIDGE 



453 



An idler is a watch that wants both hands ; 
As useless if it goes as when it stands. 

Words learned by rote a parrot may rehearse, 
But talking is not always to converse; 
Not more distinct from harmony divine, 
The constant creaking of a country sign. 

REFERENCE. 

Read Cowper in Smith's English Men of Letters, 

SAMUEL T. COLERIDGE. 
1772- 1834. 

Principal prose works : — Lectures on Shakespeare, 
Table Talk, and The Friend. Poems: — Ancient Mari- 
ner, Kubla Khan, etc. Coleridge was indolent and un- 
practical and addicted to the use of opium. His family 
were more or less dependent upon his brother-in-law 
and neighbor, Robert Southey, whose wife was a sister 
of Mrs. Coleridge's. The epitaph on his gravestone, 
written by himself, reads: 

Stop, Christian passer-by ! Stop, child of God ! 

And read with gentle breast. Beneath this sod 

A poet lies, or that which once seemed to be, — 

Oh ! lift a thought in prayer for S. T. C. ! 

That he, who many a year, with toil of breath, 

Found death in life, may here find life in death ! 

Mercy for praise — to be forgiven for fame. 

He asked and hoped through Christ-— do thou the same. 



454 



STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



MEMORY SELECTIONS. 

He prayeth best who loveth best 

All things both great and small ; 
For the dear God who loveth us, 

He made and loveth all. 

— The Ancient Mariner. 

Work without hope draws nectar in a sieve, 
And hope without an object can not live. 

O'er wayward childhood wouldst thou hold firm rule. 
And sun thee in the light of happy faces ; 
Love, Hope, and Patience, these must be thy graces, 
« And in thine own heart let them first keep school. 

ROBERT SOUTHEY. 
1774-1843. 

Principal prose work — The Doctor, and Life of Nelson. 
Poetry — Thalaba, Roderick Madoc, Inchcape Rock, The 
Battle of Blenheim, The Cataract of Lodore, etc. He was 
a very industrious, voluminous writer, publishing in all 
109 volumes. Was appointed laureate in 1813. 

REFERENCE. 

Literary Reminiscences, DeQuincey. 

THE INCHCAPE ROCK. 
No Stir in the air, no stir in the sea, ^ 
The ship was still as she could be ; 
Her sails from heaven received no motion; 
Her keel was steady in the ocean. 



ROBERT SOUTHEY 



455 



Without either sign or sound of their shock, 
The waves flowed over the Inchcape Rock ; 
So Httle they rose, so Httle they fell, 
They did not move the Inchcape Bell. 

The Abbot of Aberbrothok 
Had placed that bell on the Inchcape Rock ; 
On a buoy in the storm it floated and swung, 
And over the waves its warning rung. 

When the rock was hid by the surge's swell. 
The mariners heard the warning bell ; 
And then they knew the perilous rock, 
And blessed the Abbot of Aberbrothok. 

The sun in heaven was shining gay ; 

All things were joyful on that day ; 

The sea birds screamed as they wheeled round, 

And there was joyance in their sound. 

The buoy of the Inchcape Bell was seen, 
A darker speck on the ocean green ; 
Sir Ralph the Rover walked his deck, 
And he fixed his eye on the darker speck. 

He felt the cheering power of spring ; 
It made him whistle, it made him sing ; 
His heart was mirthful to excess, 
But the Rover's mirth was wickedness. 

His eye was on the Inchcape float; 
Quoth he, "My men, put out the boat, 
And row me to the Inchcape Rock, 
And I'll plague the Abbot of Aberbrothok." 



456 STUDIES IN BEITISH LITEEATURE 



The boat is lowered, the boatsmen row, 

And to the Inchcape Rock they go ; 

Sir Ralph bent over from the boat, 

And he cut the bell from the Inchcape float ; 

Down sunk the bell with a gurgling sound ; 
The bubbles rose and burst around ; 
Quoth Sir Ralph, *'The next who comes to the rock 
Won't bless the Abbot of Aberbrothok." 

Sir Ralph the Rover sailed away ; 
He scoured the seas for many a day ; 
And now, grown rich with plundered store, 
He steers his course for Scotland's shore. 

So thick a haze o'erspreads the sky. 
They cannot see the sun on high ; 
The wind hath blown a gale all day; 
At evening it hath died away. 

On the deck the Rover takes his stand ; 
So dark it is they see no land. 
Quoth Sir Ralph, 'Tt will be lighter soon. 
For there is the dawn of the rising moon." 

"Canst hear," said one, **the breakers roar? 
For methinks we should be near the shore." 
"'Nor where we are I cannot tell, 
But I wish I could hear the Inchcape Bell." 

They hear no sound ; the swell is strong ; 
Though the wind hath fallen, they drift along, 
Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock: 
"O Christ ! it is the Inchcape Rock !" 



ROBERT SOUTHEY 



457 



Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair ; ^® 
He cursed himself in his despair ; 
The waves rush in on every side ; 
The ship is sinking beneath the tide. 

But, even in his dying fear, " 
One dreadful sound could the Rover hear, — 
A sound as if, with the Inchcape Bell, 
The Devil below was ringing his knell. 

Note. — Southey founded this ballad upon actual fact. 
Inch Cape or Bell Rock is a celebrated, dangerous sunken 
reef in the German Ocean, on the northern side of the 
entrance of the Firth of Forth, and about twelve miles 
from land. A bell, placed there by the Abbot of Aberbro- 
thock, was cut loose by a Dutch pirate, who was wrecked 
on the reef a short time after. 
L Amplify the poem. 
11. What is an abbot ? 

THOMAS CAMPBELL. 

I 777- I 844. 

A Scotch Poet. 

Prose works : — Life of Petrarch, Specimens of British 
Poets. Poetry : — Pleasures of Hope, first poem of note 
at age of twenty-one ; Gertrude of Wyoming, LochieVs 
Warning, Hohenlinden, Exile of Erin, The Battle of the 
Baltic, The Last Man, Ye Mariners of England, etc. For 
over fifty years Campbell devoted himself to literature 
and educational work, and had all the greatest men of his 
time for his friends. 



58 



STUDIES IN BRITISH LITEEATUEE 



REFERENCES. 

Life of Campbell. Bcattie. 
Essays and Reviews, JVhipple. 

• 

LOED ULLIN'S DAUGHTER. 
A chieftain, to the Highlands bound, 

Cries, "Boatman, do not tarry ! 
And I'll give thee a silver pound, 

To row us o'er the ferry." 

''Now, who be ye would cross Lochgyle, 
This dark and stormy water?" 

"O Tm the chief of Ulva's isle. 
And this Lord Ullin's daughter. 

"And fast before her father's men 
Three days we've fled together, 

For should *he find us in the glen, 
My blood would stain the heather. 

*'His horsemen hard behind us ride ; 

Should they our steps discover, 
Then who will cheer my bonny bride 

When they have slain her lover?" 

Out spoke the hardy Highland wight, 
'T'll go, my chief, — I'm ready : 

It is not for your silver bright. 
But for your winsome lady : 

"And, by my word ! the bonny bird 

In danger shall not tarry : 
So, though the waves are raging white, 

I'll row you o'er the ferry." 



THOMAS CAMPBELL 



By this the storm grew loud apace, 
The water wraith was shrieking; 

And in the scowl of heaven each face 
Grew dark as they were speaking. 

But still as wilder blew the wind. 

And as the night grew drearer, 
Adown ihe glen rode armed men. 

Their trampling sounded nearer. 

"O haste thee, haste!" the lady cries, 
"Though tempests round us gather; 

I'll meet the raging of the skies, 
But not an angry father.'' . 

The boat has left a stormy land, 

A stormy sea before her, — 
When, Oh ! too strong for human hand, 

The tempest gathered o'er her. 

And still they rowed amidst the roar 

Of waters fast prevailing. 
Lord Uliin reached that fatal shore. 

His wrath was changed to wailing ; ^ 

For sore dismayed, through storm and shade, 

His child he did discover : 
One lovely hand she stretched for aid, 

And one was round her lover. 

"Come back! come back!" he cried in grief, 

"Across this stormy water: 
And I'll forgive your Highland chief. 

My daughter! — O my daughter!" 



460 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



'Twas vain ; the loud waves lashed the shore, " 

Return or aid preventing: 
The waters wild went o'er his child, — 

And he was left lamenting. 

.THOMAS MOORE. 

1779-1852. 

'The Irish Poet/' 

Prose works : — Biographies of Sheridan, Byron, Fitz- 
gerald, and The Epicurean. Poetry : — Lalla Rookh, com- 
prising four poems — Paradise and the Peri, The Veiled 
Prophet, The Fire Worshipers, and The Light of the 
Harem; The Fudge Family in Paris; Sacred Songs, 
among which are The World Is All a Fleeting Show, 
Sound the Loud Timbrel, and The Bird Let Loose in the 
Eastern Skies; Irish Melodies, numbering among others 
such favorites as Those Evening Bells, The Last Rose of 
Summer, and The Harp That Once Through Tara's 
Halls. ' Moore will probably be longest remembered by 
his Irish Melodies. 

• REFERENCES. 

Life of Moore, Montgomery. 
Moore, poem, Holmes. 

MEMORY SELECTIONS. 

The love of gold, that meanest rage 
And latest folly of man's sinking age. 
Which, rarely venturing in the van of life, 
While nobler passions wage their heated strife. 



PEECY BYSSHE SHELLEY 



461 



Comes skulking last with selfishness and fear 
And dies collecting lumber in the rear ! 

Earth hath no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal. 

Oh ! ever thus, from childhood's hour, 
I've seen my fondest hopes decay ; 

I never loved a tree or flower, 
But 'twas the first to fade away. 

PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. 
1 792- 1 822. 

Poetry : — Queen Mah, The Witch of Atlas, Prometheus 
Unbound, Hellas, ReiJolt of Islam, and Adonais, an elegy 
upon his friend Keats. His widow published two vol- 
umes of his prose writing. Shelley was drowned in the 
Bay of Spezzia off the coast of Italy. His remains were 
cremated, and his ashes taken to Rome and placed near 
the grave of his loved friend, Keats. A volume of Keats' 
poems was found in his pocket when his body was washed 
ashore. 

Of him Whipple said: "No man ever lived with a 
deeper and more inextinguishable thirst to promote 
human liberty and happiness." 

REFERENCES. 

Shelley, poem, Holmes. 
Biographical Essays, DeQuincey, 

MEMORY SELECTIONS. 

All of US who are worth anything, spend our manhood 
in unlearning the follies, or expiating the mistakes of our 
youth. 



462 



STUDIES IN BRITISH LITEEATUEE 



How wonderful is death, 

Death and his brother sleep ! 

One, pale as yonder waning moon, 

With lips of lurid blue; 

The other, rosy as the morn 

When, throned on ocean's wave. 

It blushes o'er the world : 

Yet both so passing wonderful ! 

Life like a dome of many-color'd glass. 
Stains the white radiance of eternity. 

JOHN KEATS. 
1795-1821. 

Best poems : — The Eve of St. Agnes, Ode to a Night- 
ingale, Hyperion, Isabella, and Endymion. It is said that 
the agony of mind caused by the partly unjust criticism 
of the last named poem hurried Keats into a premature 
consumptive's grave. 

REFERENCES. 

Keats, Longfellozv. 
Essay on Keats, Holmes. 
Essays, Lowell. 

Biographical Essays, DeQuincey. 

MEMORY SELECTIONS. 

Four seasons fill the measure of the year ; 

There are four seasons in the mind of man ; 
He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear 

Takes in all beauty with an easy span; 
He has his Summer, when luxuriously 



THOMAS HOOD 



463 



Spring's honey 'd-cud of youthful thought he loves 
To ruminate, and by such dreaming high 

Is nearest unto Heaven ; quiet coves 
His soul hath in its Autumn, v^hen his Wings 

He furleth close ; contented so to look 
On mists in idleness — to let fair things 

Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook; 
He has his Winter too of pale misfeature, 
Or else he would forego his mortal nature. 

A thing of beauty is a joy forever: 
Its loveliness increases ; it will never 
Pass into nothingness. 



THOMAS HOOD. 
1798-1845. 

Hood was no mere provoker of barren laughter, but 
a man whose mirth had its roots deep in sentiment and 
humanity. He saw the serious side of life as clearly as 
the ludicrous. He knew what thin partitions separate in 
this world tears from laughter; that the deepest feeling 
often expresses itself in the quaint oddities of caricature ; 
that wisdom sometimes condescends to pun, and grief to 
wreathe its face in smiles. — Whipple. 

The Song of the Shirt is probably Hood's best known 
poem. Other poems are The Bridge of Sighs, Faithless 
Nelly Gray, I Remember, I Remember, Ruth, The Plea 
of the Midsummer Fairies, etc. 



464 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



REFERENCES. 

Essays, Whipple; To the Memory of Hood, Lowell. 

MEMORY GEMS. 

Evil is wrought by want of thought 
As well as want of thought. 

There is no music in the life 
That sounds with happy laughter solely; 
There's not a string attun'd to mirth, 
But has its chord of melancholy. 

JEAN INGELOW. 
1830-1897. 

Among Miss Ingelow's well-known poems are Sojigs 
of Seven; The High Tide on the Coast of Lincolnshire ; 
A Reverie; Divided; Songs of the Night Watches; a 
collection of stories for children ; and the novels Don 
John, A Motto Changed, etc. 

MEMORY GEMS. 

"When our thoughts are born, 
Though they be good and humble, one should mind 
How they are reared, or some will go astray 
And shame their mother." 

'Tears are the showers that fertilize this world, 
And memory of things precious keepeth warm 
The heart that once did hold them." 

SEVEN TIMES ONE. 
There's no dew left on the daisies and clover, * 
There's no rain left in heaven. 



JEAN INGELOW 



465 



I've said my "seven times" over and over, — 
Seven times one are seven. 

I am old, — so old I can write a letter ; ^ 

My birthday lessons are done, 
The lambs play always ; they know no better ; 

They are only one times one. 

moon! in the night I have seen you sailing ^ 
And shining so round and low. 

You were bright, — ah bright — but your light is failing, 
You are nothing now but a bow. 

You, moon ! have you done something wrong in heaven, * 
That God has hidden your face? 

1 hope, if you have, you will soon be forgiven, 
And shine again in your place. 

O velvet bee! you're a dusty fellow; ^ 

You've powdered your legs with gold. 
O brave marsh Mary-buds, rich and yellow, 

Give me your money to hold! 

O Columbine! open your folded wrapper, • 
Where two twin turtle-doves dwell; 

Cuckoo-pint! toll me the purple clapper 
That hangs in your clear, green bell. 

And show me your nest, with the young ones in it; ' 
I will not steal them away ; 

1 am old ; you may trust me, linnet, linnet, 
I am seven times one to-day. 



"Tlie first time I read an excellent book, it is to me just as if 
I had gained a new friend; when I read over a book I have 
perused before, it resembles the meeting with an old one." — 
Goldsmith. 



CHAPTER IX. 



FAMOUS EARLY BRITISH NOVELISTS. 

"A blessing on the printer's art ! 
Books are the mentors of the heart." 



Oliver Goldsmith. 
Sir Walter Scott. 
William M. Thackeray. 
Charles Dickens. 
Anthony Trollope. 
Mary Ann Evans. 



'*To divert at any time a troublesome fancy, run to thy books; 
they presently fix thee to them, and drive the other out of thy 
thoughts. They always receive thee with the same kindness. ' ' — 
Fuller. 



OLIVER GOLDSMITH. 
I 728- I 774. 

He was a friend to virtue^ and in his most playful pages never 
forgets what is due to it. A gentleness, delicacy, and purity 
of feeling distinguish whatever he wrote, and bear a correspond- 
ence to a generosity of disposition which knew no bounds but his 
last guinea. — Sir Walter Scott. 

No man was more foolish when he had not a pen in his hand, 
or more wise when he had. — Dr. Samuel Johnson. 

GOLDSMITH is well knowti both as a novelist and 
a poet. His prose writing has often been com- 
pared to the perfected style of Addison. His poetry is 
simple in expression, easy and melodious, and full of 
quiet tenderness. His best known writings are the two 
poems, The Deserted Village and The Traveler; two 
comedies. She Stoops to Conquer and The Good Natured 
Man; his famous novel, The Vicar of Wakefield; and 
his historical writings, which include histories of Eng- 
land, Greece and Rome, and a History of Animated 
Nature. 

Oliver Goldsmith was born at a little village in Ire- 
land, November 29, 1728. He inherited his best traits 
of character from his father, the Reverend Charles Gold- 
smith, whom he has immortalized as ''Dr. Primrose" in 
the Vicar of Wakefield, ''the man in black" in The Citizen 
of the World, and the "Milage Preacher" In The De- 
serted Village. 

469 



470 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 

f 

**A man he was to all the country dear, 
And passing rich with forty pounds a year." 

Oliver was number five in a family of eight children, 
and his father could not afford to educate him, but his 
uncle came to the rescue and furnished funds which en- 
abled him to prepare for college. He was an idle, irreg- 
ular student, but managed to secure his A. B. degree 
from Trinity College, in Dublin, in 1749. After leav- 
ing college, he tried teaching and then studied law, but 
made a failure in both. His uncle then induced him to 
study medicine, and generously assisted him to enter the 
Leyden Medical School. But he tired of this in one year, 
and set off on foot to make a tour of the European con- 
tinent; with only one guinea in his pocket to help him 
earn his way. In this destitute condition, he wandered 
through Flanders, France, Switzerland and Italy. 

He finally settled down in London, and wrote The 
Traveler, which appeared in 1764 and earned for him both 
fame and money. His friends. Dr. Johnson, Pitt, Burke, 
and others encouraged him to continue literary work, 
and though his subsequent works were successful to an 
encouraging degree they failed to teach their unfortu- 
nate author the virtues of caution, self-restraint, and 
self-respect. He died in the prime of Hfe of a fever 
produced by his irregular mode of living and his in- 
tense mental anxiety. His body was laid to rest in the 
burial ground of the Temple Church in London. Friends 
afterwards placed a bust of Goldsmith in the Poets' Cor- 
ner of Westminster Abbey. 

REFERENCES. 

Life of Goldsmith, Irving; Essays, Macaulay. 



OLIVEE GOLDSMITH 



471 



MEMORY SELECTIONS. 

"The person whose clothes are extremely fine I am 
too apt to consider as not being possessed of any supe- 
riority of fortune, but resembling those Indians who are 
found to wear all the gold they have in the world in a 
bob at the nose." 

''People seldom improve when they have no one else 
but themselves to copy." 

"Fortune is ever seen accompanying industry, and is 
as often trundling a wheel-barrow as lolling in a coach 
and six." 

"Blest be that spot where cheerful guests retire 

To pause from toil, and trim their evening fire ; 

Blest that abode where warit and pain repair. 

And every stranger finds a ready chair; 

Blest be those feasts, with simple plenty crown'd 

Where all the ruddy family around 

Laugh at the jests or pranks that never fail, 

Or sigh with pity at some mournful tale ; 

Or press the bashful stranger to his food, 

And learn the luxury of doing good." . 

— The Traveler. 

"Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey. 
Where wealth accumulates, and men decay; 
Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade — 
A breath can make them, as a breath has made; 
But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, 
When once destroyed, can never be supplied." 

— The Deserted Village. 



472 STUDIES IN BEITISH LITERATURE 



SIR WALTER SCOTT. 



I77I-I832. 

The Wizard of the North.' 
The Great Unknown." 



Who is there that, looking back over a great portion of his 
life, does not find the genius of Scott administering to his pleas- 
ures, beguiling his cares, and soothing his lonely sorrows? 

— Washington Irving, 

No sounder piece of British manhood was put together in that 
eighteenth century of Time. — Carlyle. 

'T^HE GREAT Scotch poct and novelist. Sir Walter 



A Scott, ranks as one of the greatest masters of fic- 
tion in the number and variety of his conceptions and 
characters. Someone has well said that he "revived the 
glories of past ages ; illustrated the landscape and the 
history of his native country; painted the triumphs of 
patriotism and virtue, and the meanness and misery of 
vice ; awakened our best and kindliest feelings in favor 
of suffering and erring humanity. He has furnished an 
intellectual banquet as rich as it is various and pictur- 
esque, from his curious learning, extensive observation, 
forgotten manners, and decaying superstitions, — the 
whole embeUished with the Hghts of a vivid imagination, 
and a correct and gracefully regulated taste." 

Walter Scott was born in Edinburg, August 15, 1771. 
His father, for whom he was named, was a Writer to the 
Signet, and his mother, Anne Rutherford, was the daugh- 
ter of an eminent Edinburg physician. In his early 
years he was somewhat delicate and spent considerable 




SIR WALTEE SCOTT 



473 



time in the country, where he roamed over the fields, 
climbed rugged heights, or lazily stretched out under the 
trees along the bank of the Tweed, reading and dreaming 
over old border tales and legends. Iti this way, he 
learned the history, spirit and traditions of his country, 
he became familiar with her valleys, lochs, fishing vil- 
lages and hamlets, and a vast fund of knowledge of 
divers things which was of so much value to him in his 
later literary years. His school education was confined 
to his high school training and a short time at the Uni- 
versity in his native city. 

At the age of sixteen, he began to read law in his 
father's office, and in 1792 was admitted to the bar. In 
1797, he married Miss Charlotte Margaret Carpenter, 
with whom he lived very happily. He was appointed 
sheriff of Selkirkshire, and later became principal clerk 
of the Court of Sessions. He did not care for this work, 
and began to amuse himself with literature, giving his 
attention first to translations. In 1805, he won fame by 
his Lay of the Last Minstrel, an extended specimen of 
the ballad style which was something entirely new to the 
public, and became widely popular. It was full of inci- 
dents : tournaments, raids, midnight expeditions, etc., 
illustrative of the customs and manners which anciently 
prevailed on the borders of England and Scotland. In 
1808, he issued Marmion, a romantic tale of Flodden- 
field. Next came The Lady of the Lake, telling of a dis- 
guised king who traversed the Highlands near Loch 
Katrine, missing his way and meeting with various ad- 
ventures. The whole poem was highly illustrative of the 
life and scenery in the Scottish Highlands. A critic, in 
speaking of the three poems we have just mentioned, 



474 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



says: "These poems are written after the fashion of the 
old metrical romances, and are remarkable for freshness 
of thought, vividness of description, and animation of 
style. They were very popular, and the author would 
have been considered a famous man if he never had writ- 
ten anything but poetry." 

Scott now purchased an estate of one hundred acres, 
lying along the south bank of the Tweed, three miles 
above Melrose. He christened his home ''Abbottsford," 
and in later years, as his resources increased, he added 
farm after farm to his domain, and turret after turret 
to his grand Gothic mansion. He was made a baronet, 
and here he lived like a knight of olden time, entertain- 
ing his friends and personages of note from all over the 
world in a truly grand and hospitable style. 

In 1814, Scott found his popularity as a poet some- 
what waning, on account of Byron's rapid rise in the 
field. He accordingly turned his attention to prose ro- 
mance, for which, as we have seen, his early training 
especially fitted him. His first novel, Waverly, was pub- 
lished anonymously, but when he saw its great success, 
he immediately confessed his identity. This story, telling 
the attempt of the Jacobite Pretender to recover the 
EngHsh throne in 1745, was the beginning of a series 
called The Waverly Novels, among the best of which 
are Ivanhoe, Kenilworth, The Talisman, Old Mortality, 
etc. 

Scott was the creator of the historical novel, writing 
in all seventeen works of this sort. Of them Carlyle 
says : "These historical novels have taught all men this 
truth, which looks like a truism, and yet was as good as 
unknown to writers of history and others till so taught: 



SIR WALTER SCOTT 



475 



that the by-gone ages of the world were actually filled by 
living men, not by protocols, state papers, controversies, 
and abstractions of men." Scott was not, however, al- 
ways absolutely accurate. He frequently took liberties 
with history in order to make it fit the details of his plot. 
But in his best work at least, he is true enough in his 
portraitures to enable one to get more truth and knowl- 
edge of the times by studying his historic tales than by 
poring over volumes of dry documents, state papers, and 
histories. If we wish to get a vivid picture of the time 
of Richard Coeur de Lion, of the knight and the castle, 
of the Saxon swineherd Gurth and of the Norman mas- 
ter who ate the pork, we must read Ivanhoe. In doing 
this, we must, however, remember here that Scott does 
not in this tale present an exact picture of the Middle 
Ages. He portrays vividly the bright, noble side of 
chivalry, and leaves in the shadow most of the misery, 
ignorance, and brutality of the times. In the pages of 
The Talisman, the Crusaders live again. In Kenilworth, 
we are entertained with a story of the brilliant days of 
Queen Elizabeth. The story of the old Scotch Cove- 
nanters is told in Old Mortality, regarded by some as 
Scott's finest historical tale. 

Scott wrote about twelve novels wherein he made but 
little attempt to represent historic events. Among these 
are The Antiquary, The Bride of Lammermoor, and Guy 
Mannering. The latter was written in six weeks, and is 
among the best of his books. It is a fine picture of Scot- 
tish life and manners. Some of the characters like Meg 
Merrilies, the gypsy. Dominie Sampson, the pedagogue, 
and Dick Hatteraick, the smuggler, seem like people we 
have known in real life. Scott was not a good painter 



476 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 

of women, as a rule. He evidently believed with Pope 
that most women had no character. Jeanie Deans in 
The Heart of Midlothian is a fine type of the humble 
Scotch lassie, and is one of his greatest characters. Re- 
becca, the Jewess, in Ivanhoe, is a beautiful character, 
showing patience, courage, and thorough purity of soul. 

In all his work, Scott aimed at broad and striking 
effects. He delighted in adventure, and had a decided 
fondness for mystery and the rush of battle. He was 
continually putting his characters in dangerous and un- 
usual situations. He wrote very rapidly, and seldom re- 
constructed a sentence, hence frequently his grammar is 
much at fault. In spite of his speed, Scott never re- 
peated himself. His characters stand out entirely dis- 
tinct from each other. He was incapable of trotting out 
an old heroine in a new dress and a stylish bonnet. 

To keep up his grand style of living, Scott had secretly 
gone into partnership with his publishers. Another firm 
with whom they were connected suspended payment, 
leaving Ballantyne & Co. hopelessly involved. Scott's 
Habilities amounted to $650,000. His humiliation was 
indescribable, but he was courageous and honest, and 
on the very day of his failure, though he was then fifty- 
five years of age, he nobly resolved to repay every cent. 
He left Abbotsford immediately and went into lodgings 
in Edinburgh, where he worked like a galley-slave. With- 
in a few years he paid his creditors $200,000, and man- 
aged to put things in such shape that soon after his 
death the whole debt was liquidated. 

Scott's death occurred at Abbotsford September 21, 
1832. He was laid to rest in his family burial aisle 
amidst the ruins of Drysburgh Abbey. He was greatly 



SIR WALTER SCOTT 477 

loved, and it is said that nearly the entire population of 
his precinct and the surrounding boroughs appeared at 
his funeral clad in black. 

Scott was tall and striking in figure, stout and well 
made, though crippled in one foot and very lame. 

MEMORY SELECTIONS. 

"Oh, what a tangled web we weave 
When first we practice to deceive !" 
"Breathes there a man with soul so dead. 
Who never to himself hath said, 
This is my own, my native land ?" 

"Oh, many a shaft at random sent, 

Finds mark the archer little meant ; 

And many a word, at random spoken. 

May soothe or wound a heart that's broken." 

FAMILIAR LINES. 

1. Every hour has its end. 

2. Literature is a great staff, but a sorry crutch. 

3. Slanderers cut honest throats by whispers. 

4. Ambition breaks the ties of blood, and forgets the 
obligations of gratitude. 

5. The willow which bends to the tempest often 
escapes better than the oak which resists it. 

6. The tear down childhood's cheek that flows is like 
the dewdrop on the rose. 

7. He who lacks strength must attain his purpose by 
skill. 



478 STUDIES IN BEITISH LITEEATURE 



LOCHINVAE. 

O young Lochinvar is come out of the west, 
Through all the wide Border his steed was the best, 
And save his good broadsword he weapons had none ; 
He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone. 
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war. 
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. 

He stayed not for brake, and he stopped not for stone, 

He swam the Eske river where ford there was none; 

But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate, 

The bride had consented, the gallant came late ; 

For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war. 

Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. 

So boldly he entered the Netherby hall, 

Among bridesmen and kinsmen, and brothers, and all ; 

Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword 

(For the poor craven bridegroom spoke never a won 

"O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, 

Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?" 

"I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied ; 
Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide ; 
And now I am come, with this lost love of mine, 
To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. 
There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far 
That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar." 

The bride kissed the goblet ; the knight took it up ; 
He quaffed oft" the wine, and he threw down the cup ; 
She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh. 
With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye. 



SIR WALTEE SCOTT 



479 



He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar, — 
"Now tread we a measure !" said young Lochinvar. 

So stately his form, and so lovely her face, ® 
That never a hall such a galliard did grace ; 
While her mother did fret, and her father did fume. 
And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and 
plume ; 

And the bridemaidens whispered, "'Twere better by far 
To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar." 

One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, 
When they reached the hall door, and the charger stood 
near; 

So light to the croup the fair lady he swung! 
So light to the saddle before her he sprung ! 
"She is won ! vv^e are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur ! 
They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Loch- 
invar. 

There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby 
clan ; ^ 

Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they 
ran ; 

There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee; 
But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. 
So daring in love and so dauntless in war, 
Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar? 

DESCRIPTION OF A SIEGE. 
From Ivanhoc. 
Note. — Ivanhoe, a wounded knight, and Rebecca, a Jewess, had 
been imprisoned in the castle of jLleginald Front de Boeuf. The 
friends of the prisoners undertake their rescue. At the request 




480 



STTJDIES IN BEITISH LITEEATURE 



of Ivanhoe, who is unable to leave his couch, Eebecca takes her 
stand near a window overlooking the approach to the castle, and 
details to the knight the incidents of the contest, as they take 
place. Front de Boeuf and his garrison were Normans; the be- 
siegers, Saxons. 

Barbacan, an outer defense, or fortification, used as a watch- 
tower. 

THE SKIRTS of the wood seemed lined with arch- 
ers, although only a few are advanced from, its 
dark shadow.- "Under what banner?" asked Ivanhoe. 
''Under no ensign which I can observe," answered Re- 
becca. "A singular novelty," muttered the knight, "to 
advance to storm such a castle without pennon or banner 
displayed. Seest thou who they be that act as leaders?" 
"A knight clad in sable armor is the most conspicuous," 
said the Jewess ; "he alone is armed from head to heel, 
and seems to assume the direction of all around him." 

"Seems there no other leaders ?" exclaimed the anxious 
inquirer. "None of mark and distinction that I can be- 
hold from this station," said Rebecca, "but doubtless the 
other side of the castle is also assailed. They seem, even 
now, preparing to advance. God of Zion protect us ! 
What a dreadful sight! Those who advance first bear 
huge shields and defenses made of plank; the others fol- 
low, bending their bows as they come on. They raise 
their bows! God of Moses, forgive the creatures thou 
hast made I" 

Her description was here suddenly interrupted by the 
signal for assault, which was given by the blast of a 
shrill bugle, and at once answered by a flourish of the 
Norman trumpets from the battlements, which, mingled 
with the deep and hollow clang of the kettle-drums, re- 



SIE WALTER SCOTT 



481 



torted in notes of defiance the challenge of the enemy. 
The shouts of both parties augmented the fearful din, 
the assailants crying, *' Saint George, for merry Eng- 
land!" and the Normans answering them v/ith loud 
cries of "Onward, De Bracy! Front de Boeuf, to the 
rescue !" 

"And I must He here, like a bed-ridden monk," ex- 
claimed Ivanhoe, "while the game that gives me free- 
dom or death is played out by the hand of others ! Look 
from the window once again, kind maiden, and tell me 
if they yet advance to the storm." With patient courage, 
strengthened by the interval which she had employed in 
mental devotion, Rebecca again took post at the lattice, 
sheltering herself, however, so as not to be exposed to 
the arrows of the , archers. "What dost thou see, Re- 
becca?" again demanded the wounded knight. "Nothing 
but the cloud of arrows flying so thick as to dazzle mine 
eyes, and to hide the bowmen who shoot them." "That 
can not endure," said Ivanhoe. "If they press not right 
on, to carry the castle by force of arms, the archery may 
avail but little against stone walls and bulwarks. Look 
for the knight in dark armor, fair Rebecca, and see how 
he bears himself ; for as the leader is, so will his follow- 
ers be." 

"I see him not," said Rebecca. "Foul Craven!" ex- 
claimed Ivanhoe ; "does he blench from the helm, when 
the wind blows highest?" "He blenches not! he blenches 
not !" said Rebecca ; "I see him now ; he leads a body of 
men close under the outer barrier of the barbacan. They 
pull down the piles and palisades ; they hew down the 
barriers Vv^ith axes. His high, black plume floats abroad 
over the throng, Hke a raven over the field of the slain. 



482 SrUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 

They have made a breach in the barriers, they rush in, 
they are thrust back! Front de Boeuf heads the de- 
fenders. I see his gigantic form above the press. They 
throng again to the breach, and the pass is disputed, 
hand to hand, and man to man. God of Jacob ! it is the 
meeting of two fierce tides, the conflict of two oceans 
moved by adverse winds and she turned her head from 
the window, as if unable to longer endure a sight so 
terrible. 

Speedily recovering her self-control, Rebecca again 
looked forth, and almost immediately exclaimed, ''Holy 
prophets of the law! Front de Boeuf and the Black 
Knight fight hand to hand on the breach, amid the roar 
of their followers, who watch the progress of the strife. 
Heaven strike with the cause of the oppressed and of the 
captive !" She then uttered a loud shriek, and exclaimed, 
*'He is down ! he is down !" ''Who is down?" cried Ivan- 
hoe ; "for our dear Lady's sake, tell me which has 
fallen!" "The Black Knight," answered Rebecca faintly; 
then instantly again shouted with joyful eagerness — 
"But no ! but no ! the name of the Lord of Hosts be 
blessed ! he is on foot again, and fights as if there were 
twenty men's strength in his single arm — his sword is 
broken — he snatches an ax from a yeoman — he presses 
Front de Boeuf, blow on blow — the giant stoops and tot- 
ters like an oak under the steel of the woodman — he falls 
— he falls!" "Front de Boeuf?" exclaimed Ivanhoe. 
"Front de Boeuf," answered the Jewess; "his men rush 
to the rescue, headed by the haughty Templar, — their 
united force compels the champion to pause — they drag 
Front de Boeuf within the walls." 

"The assailants have won the barriers, have they not?" 



SIR WALTER SCOTT 483 

said Ivanhoe. *They have — they have, — and they press 
the besieged hard, upon the outer wall ; some plant lad- 
ders, some swarm like bees, and endeavor to ascend upon 
the shoulders of each other ; down go stones, beams and 
trunks of trees upon their heads, and as fast as they bear 
the wounded to the rear, fresh men supply iheir places 
in the assault. Great God ! hast thou given men thine 
own image, that it should be thus cruelly defaced by the 
hands of their brethren !" — ''Think not of that," replied 
Ivanhoe ; ''this is no time for such thoughts. Who yield ? 
Who push their way?" 

'The ladders are thrown down," replied Rebecca, 
shuddering; "the soldiers lie groveling under them like 
crushed reptiles; the besieged have the better." "Saint 
George strike for us !" said the knight ; "do the false yeo- 
men give way?" "No," exclaimed Rebecca, "they bear 
themselves right yeomanly ; the Black Knight approaches 
the postern with his huge ax ; the thundering blows 
which he deals, you may hear them above all the din and 
shouts of the battle ; stones and beams are hailed down 
on the brave champion ; he regards them no more than if 
they were thistle-down and feathers." 

"St. John of Acre!" said Ivanhoe, raising himself joy- 
fully on his couch, "methought there was but one man in 
England that might do such a deed." "The postern gate 
shakes," continued Rebecca; "it crashes — it is splintered 
by his powerful blows — they rush in — the .outwork is 
won ! O God ! they hurry the defenders from the battle- 
ments — they throw them into the moat ! O men, if ye be 
indeed men, spare them that can resist no longer !" "The 
bridge — the bridge which communicates with the castle 
— have they won that pass?" exclaimed Ivanhoe. "No," 



484 



STUDIES IN BEITISH LITERATURE 



replied Rebecca; ''the Templar has destroyed the plank 
on which they crossed — few of the defenders escaped 
with him into the castle — the shrieks and cries which you 
hear, tell the fate of the others. Alas ! I see that it is 
still more difficult to look upon victory than upon battle." 

"What do they now, maiden?" said Ivanhoe ; "look 
forth yet again, this is no time to faint at bloodshed." 
"It is over, for a time," said Rebecca; "our friends 
strengthen themselves within the outwork which they 
have mastered." "Our friends," said Ivanhoe, "will 
surely fiot abandon an enterprise so gloriously begun, 
and so happily attained ; O no ! I will put my faith in the 
good knight, whose ax has rent heart of oak, and bars of 
iron. Singular," he again muttered to himself, "if there 
can be two who are capable of such achievements. It is, 
it must be Richard Coeur de Lion." 

"Seest thou nothing else, Rebecca, by which the Black 
Knight may be distinguished?" "Nothing," said the 
Jewess, "all about him is as black as the wing of the 
night-raven. Nothing can I spy that can mark him 
further ; but having once seen him put forth his strength 
in battle, methinks I could know him again among a 
thousand warriors. He rushes to the fray as if he were 
summoned to a banquet. There is more than mere 
strength; it seems as if the whole soul and spirit of the 
champion were given to every blow which he deals upon 
his enemies. God forgive him the sin of bloodshed ! it 
is fearful, yet magnificent to behold, how the arm and 
heart of one man can triumph over hundreds " 

REFERENCES. 

Visit to Abbotsford, Irving; Life of Scott, Lockhart ; 



WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKEBAY 



485 



Essay on Scott, Carlyle; Home Life of Great Authors, 
Griszvold; The Waverly Dictionary, May Rogers. 



1. Write a brief sketch of the Hfe of Scott. 

2. Name his three best known poetical works. Tell 
something of each. 

3. Tell about the Waverley novels. Which of these 
are the best known? 

4. What has Scott been called ? What has he done 
for Scotland? 

5. Quote some familiar lines. Quote three memory 
gems. 

6. Locate and describe the following characters in 
Scott's works : — Jeanie Deans, Ivanhoe, Rhoderick Dhu, 
Rebecca, Malcolm Graeme, Ellen, Hector McTntyre. 

7. Picture Scott and his home at Abbotsford as you 
imagine them. 



HACKERAY ranks as the classical EngUsh humor- 



X. ist and satirist of the Victorian reign, and one of 
the greatest novelists, essayists, and critics in literature. 
He was also a writer of considerable half-humorous, 
half-pathetic verse. He is, however, best known by his 
novels, among the most famous of these being Vanity 
Fair, Henry Esmond, The Virginians, The Newcomes, 
Pendennis, and the Adventures of Philip. His best 
verses are The Ballads of Policeman X and The Age of 
Wisdom. At different times, he wrote under the follow- 



OUESTIONS ON SCOTT. 



WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY. 



1811-1863. 




486 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 

s 

ing pen names : — George Fitzboodle, Ikey Solomon, Fat 
Contributor, Michael Angelo Titmarsh, and Charles 
Jeames Yellowplush. 

William Makepeace Thackeray was born at Calcutta, 
India, July i8, 1811. At the age of seven he was placed 
in the Charterhouse School, London, and later entered 
Trinity College, but did not take a degree. He deter- 
mined to fit himself to be an artist and accordingly studied 
in France, Germany, and Italy. He became noted as a 
caricaturist. After losing his fortune, he became con- 
vinced that art was not his vocation and turned his at- 
tention to literature to earn a living. He made his first 
appearance in journalism under the name of George 
Fitzboodle, Esquire, contributing tales, verses, and criti- 
cisms, which were marked by keen irony, playful humor 
and a great knowledge of the world. Chief among these 
contributions were The Great Hoggarty Diamond, The 
Yellowplush Papers, and Barry Lyndon. 

His first published volume, The Paris Sketch Book, 
appeared in 1840. This was followed the next year by 
the Second Funeral of Napoleon, and the Chronicle of 
the Drum. In 1841, he made notable contributions to 
Punch, among which were The Snob Papers, and 
Jeames' Diary. Vanity Fair, published in monthly parts 
during 1846-8, won his fame as a great novelist. His 
next novel was the History of Pendennis in 1850. In 
185 1, he delivered a course of lectures on the English 
Humorists of the Eighteenth Century, which he repeated 
in Scotland and in America and then published. Later, 
he followed this with a series on The Four Georges. Now 
came Henry Esmond, The Newcomes, The Virginians, 
a sort of sequel to Henry Esmond, Lovel the Widower, 



WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY 487 

etc. He left an unfinished novel, Denis Duval, at his 
death, which occurred very suddenly, December 24, 1863. 

KING CANUTE. 
King Canute was weary-hearted ; he had reigned for 

years a score ^ 
Battling, struggling, pushing, fighting, killing much and 

robbing more; 
And he thought upon his actions, walking by the wild 

seashore. 

On that day a something vexed him; that was clear to 
old and young; - 

Thrice his Grace had yawned at table when his favorite 
gleemen sung; 

Once the Queen would have consoled him, but he bade 
her hold her tongue. 

"Something ails my gracious master," cried the Keeper 
of the Seal. ' 

"Sure, my lord, it is the lampreys served at dinner, or 
the veal?" 

"Pshaw!" exclaimed the angry monarch. "Keeper, 'tis 
not that I feel. 

"'Tis the heart, and not the dinner, fool, that doth my 
rest impair; * 
Can a king be great as I am, prithee, and yet know no 

care? 

O, I'm sick and tired, and weary." Some one cried, 
"The King's arm-chair!" 

Then towards the lackeys turning, quick my Lord the 
Keeper nodded : . • " s 



488 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITEEATURE 

Straight the King's great chair was brought him, by two 

footmen able-bodied ; 
Languidly he sank into it ; it was comfortably wadded. 

"Ah! I feel," said old King Canute, ''that my end is 
drawing near." ^ 

"Don't say so," exclaimed the courtiers (striving each to 
squeeze a tear) ; 

"Sure your Grace is strong and lusty, and may live this 
fifty year." 

"Live these fifty years !" the Bishop roared, with actions 
made to suit. ^ 

"Are you mad, my good Lord Keeper, thus to speak of 
King Canute? 

Men have lived a thousand years, and sure his Majesty 
will do't. 

"With his wondrous skill in healing ne'er a doctor can 
compete : ® 

Loathsome lepers, if he touch them, start up clean upon 
their feet; 

Surely he could raise the dead up, did his Highness think 
it meet. 

"Did not once the Jewish captain stay the sun upon the 
hill. 

And, the while he slew the foeman, bid the silver moon 
stand still? 

So, no doubt, could gracious Canute, if it were his sacred 
will." 

"Might I stay the sun above us, good Sir Bishop?" 
Canute cried ; 



WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY 489 

"Could I bid the silver moon to pause upon her heavenly 
ride? 

If the moon obeys my orders, sure I can command the 
tide. 

"Will the advancing waves obey me, Bishop, if I make 
the sign?" 

Said the Bishop, bowing lowly, "Land and sea, my lord, 
are thine." 

Canute turned towards the ocean. "Back !" he said, 
"thou foaming brine ! 

"From the sacred shore I stand on, I command thee to 
retreat; 

Venture not, thou stormy rebel, to approach thy master's 
seat ; 

Ocean, be thou still ! I bid thee come not nearer to my 
feet!" 

But the sullen ocean answered with a louder, deeper 
roar ; 

And the rapid waves drew nearer, falling, sounding on 
the shore; 

Back the Keeper and the Bishop, back the King and 
courtiers, bore. 

And he sternly bade them nevermore to bow to human 
clay, ^* 

But alone to praise and worship That which earth and 
seas obey; 

And his golden crown of empire never wore he from 
that day. 

Note. — It would be impossible to give enough selec- 



490 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



tions from Thackeray's prose work to fully illustrate his 
style. He was especially strong in character drawing. 
The following lines show something of his methods : 
"Let your rogues in novels act like rogues, and your 
honest men like honest men. Don't let us have any jug- 
gling and thimble-rigging with virtue and vice, so that 
at the end of three volumes the bewildered reader shall 
not know which is which; don't let us find ourselves 
kindling at the generous qualities of thieves and sympa- 
thizing with the rascality of noble hearts." Read The 
Virginians (and other books if time permits) ; answer 
the following questions: 

1. Describe the following characters: Madam Es- 
mond, Madam De Bernstien, Mr. and Mrs. Lambert, 
Hetty and Theo. 

2. Contrast the brothers, George and Harry War- 
rington. 

3. Tell of George's life as a soldier. Of his capture 
and escape. 

4. . Tell of Harry's career abroad. 

5. Give a brief sketch of the Revolution from the 
standpoint of Sir Geo. Warrington, Englishman. 

6. What officers of the Revolution are mentioned in 
the book? 

7. Discuss the appropriateness of the titles of the 
various chapters. 

8. Discuss Thackeray's depiction of human nature. 
Name some characters that are especially well portrayed. 
Show their principal characteristics. 

9. Upon what did Thackeray base the story of The 
Virginians? Where did he obtain his material? 

10. Select passages for quotation. 




CHARLES DICKENS. 



CHAKLES DICKENS 



491 



REFERENCES. 

Letters of Thackeray ; In Memoriam, Charles Dickens; 
Yesterday With Authors, Fields. 

QUESTIONS ON THACKERAY. 

1. Sketch the Hfe of Thackeray. 

2. For what is his writing distinguished? 

3. Name two well known poems. Four novels. Two 
lectures. 

4. Locate and tell of the following characters : — 
Becky Sharp, Lady Castlewood, AmeHa Sedley, Henry 
Esmond, Colonel Newcome, Arthur Pendennis. 

5. What do 3^ou know of Thackeray as a humorist ? 

6. Name three characters in Vanity Fair. 

7. Sketch the story of Henry Esmond. W^hat novel 
is partly a sequel to this? 

CHARLES DICKENS. 
1812-1870. 

The same master-hand which drew the sorrows of the English 
poor drew also the picture of the unselfish kindness, the cour- 
ageous patience, the tender thoughtfulness, that lie concealed 
behind many a coarse exterior, in many a rough heart, in many 
a degraded home. — Dean Stanley. 

Dickens" fame as one of the greatest English nov- 
eHsts rests entirely upon his wide and keen ob- 
servation of men. He was the great friend of the poor 
and oppressed. Daniel Webster said that Dickens had 
done more to better the condition of the English poor 




492 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



than all the statesmen Great Britain had sent into Par- 
liament. His pen was scarcely ever idle in their behalf, 
and many of his best known books were written with this 
philanthropic purpose. For instance, Oliver Twist opened 
up a vein of philanthropic pathos and indignant satire 
upon the method of conducting the workhouse. Nicholas 
Nickleby denounced the management of cheap boarding 
schools. Little Dorrit dealt with imprisonmnent for debt, 
the contrasts of character developed by wealth and pov- 
erty, and executive imbecility as idealized in the Circum- 
locution Office. 

Charles Dickens was born at Portsmouth, England, 
February 7, 1812. His early Hfe was full of hardships 
which we may read about in his autobiographical tale, 
David Copperileld. His opportunities for school educa- 
tion were very meager, but he was fond of reading, and 
at nine years of age had devoured The Vicar of Wake- 
Held, Arabian Nights, Don Quixote and a number of 
other good works. In his early teens he was a drudge 
in a blacking warehouse, and subsequently a clerk in an 
attorney's office. He picked up shorthand, and at the 
age of twenty-one became a newspaper critic and re- 
porter. Fie wrote a number of sketches for the Evening 
Chronicle which appeared under the name of "Boz," a 
name given by his little sister to his younger brother 
Moses, whose name she could not pronounce. His first 
book was a collection of these articles called Sketches by 
Bos. About this time, he began the publication of his 
famous series. The Pickwick Papers. In these he dealt 
with such humorous and eccentric characters as Mr. 
Pickwick, Sam Weller and his father, Mr. Winkle and 
others who were wholly new to the public and who yet 



CHARLES DICKENS 



493 



faithful!}' dealt with the oddities of life. These papers 
were followed in quick succession by Oliver Tzvist, 
Nicholas Nicklehy, The Old Curiosity Shop, and Bar- 
naby Rndge. 

In 1842, Dickens visited America, and on his return 
to England wrote American Notes for General Circula- 
tion, and a novel, Martin Chuzzlezvit, dealing with his 
American experiences. This was followed by his world- 
renowned Christmas Tales, which handled the weird ma- 
chinery of ghostly legend in connection with his own 
peculiar humor, and opened a new field of wonder and 
delight to his readers. Thackeray thus spoke of the 
Christmas Carol: "It seems to me a national benefit, 
and to every man or woman who reads it a personal 
kindness." 

Dickens visited Italy in 1845. Pictures from Italy was 
the literary result of this trip. On his return, he became 
editor of the Daily Nezvs, but gave it up in a short time 
because the work was uncongenial. Later he became, in 
turn, editor of Household Words and All the Year 
Round. His novels Dombey and Son, David Copper- 
field, and Bleak House now quickly followed each other. 
Then in 1852 came A Child's History of England, pub- 
lished serially. Hard Times, Little Dorrit, A Tale of 
Tzvo Cities, and Our Mutual Friend, his last great serial 
work, now followed. In 1867, he again visited America 
and gave readings in the larger cities. He began an- 
other serial. The Mystery of Edzvin Drood, Vv^hich had 
only appeared in three numbers when he died somewhat 
suddenly at his residence at Gad's Hill Place, near 
Rochester, June 9, 1870. His remains lie in Westminster 
Abbey. 



494 



STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



MR. WINKLE ON SKATES. 

Selected from the Pickidck Papers. 

"Now," said Wardle, after lunch, ''what say you to an 
hour on the ice? We shall have plenty of time." 

"Capital," said Mr. Benjamin Allen. 

"Prime!" ejaculated Mr. Bob Sawyer. 

"You skate, of course, Winkle?" said Wardle. 

"Ye— yes; O, yes!" rephed Mr. Winkle. "I— I am 
rather out of practice. 

"O, do skate, Mr. Winkle!" said Arabella. "I like to 
see it so much !" 

"O, it is so graceful !" said another young lady. 

A third young lady said it was elegant, and a fourth 
expressed her opinion that it was "swan-like." 

"I should be very happy, I'm sure," said Mr. Winkle, 
reddening; "but I have no skates," 

This objection was at once overruled. Trundle had a 
couple of pairs, and the fat boy announced that there 
were half a dozen more down stairs ; whereat Mr. Winkle 
expressed exquisite delight, and looked exquisitely un- 
comfortable. 

Old Wardle led the way to a pretty large sheet of ice ; 
and, the fat boy and Mr. Weller having shoveled and 
swept away the snow which had fallen on it during the 
night, Mr. Bob Sawyer adjusted his skates with a dex- 
terity which to Mr. Winkle was perfectly marvelous, and 
described circles with his left leg, and cut figures, of 
eight, and inscribed upon the ice, without once stopping 
for breath, a great many other pleasant and astonishing 
devices, to the excessive satisfaction of Mr. Pickwick, 
Mr. Tupman, and the ladies. 



CHAELES DICKENS 



495 



All this time Mr. Winkle, with his face and hands 
blue with the cold, had been forcing a gimlet into the 
soles of his feet, and putting his skates on with the points 
behind, and getting the straps into a very complicated 
and entangled state, with the assistance of Mr. Snod- 
grass, who knew rather less about skates than a Hindoo. 
At length, however, with the assistance of Mr. Weller, 
the unfortunate skates were firmly screwed and buckled 
on, and Mr. Winkle was raised to his feet. 

"Now, then, sir," said Sam, in an encouraging tone, 
"ofif with you, and show 'em how to do it." 

''Stop, Sam, stop !" said Mr. Winkle, trembhng vio- 
lently, and clutching hold of Sam's arm with the grasp 
of a drowning man. "How slippery it is, Sam!" 

"Not an uncommon thing upon ice, sir," replied Mr. 
Weller. "Hold up, sir." 

This last observation of Mr. Weller's bore reference to 
a demonstration Mr. Winkle made, at the instant, of a 
frantic desire to throw his feet in the air, and dash the 
back of his head on the ice. 

"Now, Winkle," cried Mr. Pickwick, quite uncon- 
scious that there was anything the matter. "Come ; the 
ladies are all anxiety." 

"Yes, yes," replied Mr. Winkle with a ghastly smile, 
"I'm coming." 

"Just going to begin," said Sam, endeavoring to dis- 
engage himself. "Now, sir, start off." 

"Stop an instant, Sam," gasped Mr. Winkle, clinging 
most affectionately to Mr. Weller. "I find I've got a 
couple of coats at home that I don't want, Sam. You 
may have them, Sam." 

"Thank 'e, sir," said Mr. Weller. 



496 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITEEATUEE 



"Never mind touching your hat, Sam," said Mr. Win- 
kle hastily. ''You needn't take your hand away to do 
that. I meant to have given you five shillings this morn- 
ing for a Christmas-box, Sam. I'll give it to you this 
afternoon, Sam." 

"You're very good, sir," replied Mr. Weller. 

"Just hold me at first, Sam; will you?" said Mr. 
Winkle. "There, that's right. I shall soon get in the 
way of it, Sam. Not too fast, Sam; not too fast!" 

Mr. Winkle, .stooping forward, with his body half 
doubled up, was being assisted over the ice by Mr. Wel- 
ler, in a very singular and un-swanlike manner, when 
Mr. Pickwick most innocently shouted from the opposite 
bank, — 

"Sam!" 

"Sir?" said Mr. Weller. " ' 

"Here! I want you." 

"Let me go, sir," said Sam; "don't you hear the gov- 
ernor calling? Let go, sir." 

With a violent effort, Mr. Weller disengaged himself 
from the grasp of the agonized Winkle, and, in so doing, 
administered a considerable impetus to him. With an 
accuracy which no degree of dexterity or practice could 
have insured, that unfortunate gentleman bore swiftly 
down into the center of the skaters, at the very moment 
when Mr. Bob Sawyer was performing a flourish of un- 
paralleled beauty. 

Mr. Winkle struck wildly against him, and with a 
loud crash they fell heavily down. Mr. Pickwick ran 
to the spot. Bob Sawyer had risen to his feet; but Mr. 
Winkle was far too wise to do anything of the kind in 
skates. He was seated on the ice, making spasmodic 



CHARLES DICKENS 



497 



efforts to smile ; but anguish was depicted on every linea- 
ment of his countenance. 

"Are you hurt?" inquired Mr. Benjamin Allen, with 
great anxiety. 

"Not much," said Mr. Winkle, rubbing his back very 
hard. 

"I wish you'd let me bleed you," said Mr. Benjamin, 
with great eagerness. 

"No, thank you," replied Mr. Winkle hurriedly. 

"What do you think, Mr. Pickwick?" inquired Bob 
Sawyer. 

Mr. Pickwick was excited and indignant. He beck- 
oned to Mr. Weller, and said in a stern voice, "Take his 
skates of¥." 

"No; but really I had scarcely begun," remonstrated 
Mr. Winkle. 

"Take his skates off," repeated Mr. Pickwick firmly. 

The command was not to be resisted. Mr. Winkle al- 
lowed Sam to obey it in silence. 

"Lift him up," said Mr. Pickwick. Sam assisted him 
to rise. 

Mr. Pickwick retired a few paces apart from the by- 
standers ; and, beckoning Winkle to approach, fixed a 
searching look upon him, and uttered in a low but dis- 
tinct and emphatic tone, these remarkable words : — 

"You're a humbug, sir." 

"A what?" said Mr. Winkle, starting. 

"A humbug, sir. 1 will speak plainer if you wish it; 
an impostor, sir." 

With these words Mr, Pickwick turned slowly on his 
heel, and rejoined his friends. 

Read The Cricket on the Hearth. 



498 



STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



QUESTIONS. 

1. Of what is the cricket typical? 

2. What is the strongest feature of the book? 

3. Contrast the homes of the Peerybingles and the 
Plummers. 

4. Describe the race between the kettle and the 
cricket. 

5. Tell the story of the Baby being made ready to go 
to the Plummers. 

6. Describe the fog when the Peerybingles took their 
trip to the Plummers. 

7. How does the author speak of Tilly Slowboy? Of 
Dot? Of Boxer? 

8. Name the principal characters. 

9. Note the humor in the description of Boxer on 
his first introduction. 

10. Note the author's evident enjoyment of John 
Peerybingles' noble stupidity and clumsy jokes. The 
grotesqueness of the Plummers' dolls and manikins. 

11. Describe the character of ''Gruff and Tackleton." 
Show his struggle between his innate stinginess and his 
desire to appear generous before his bride-to-be. Show 
the correspondence between his twisted physique and 
countenance and his twisted nature. Contrast between 
the picture of Tackleton as he is and his picture as Caleb 
paints it for Bertha. Show the incongruity between his 
hardened nature and his occupation of distributing toys 
to children. 

12. Who is Caleb? Note his character and pathetic 
humor. His reaHstic reference to his "Hams" and 
"Wives/' etc., and his artistic desire to copy from Nature 



CHAELES DICKENS 



499 



the exact tone for a barking toy-doll by the process of 
pinching Boxer's tail. 

13. Describe Bertha. Tell of her arraignment of fate 
when she discovered her father's deception. 

14. Tell of John Peerybingle's awkward but noble 
magnanimity in making reparation to little Dot and beg- 
ging her forgiveness. 

15. Write a brief abstract of The Cricket on the 
Hearth. 

Read David Copperileld. 

QUESTIONS. 

1. What personal connection has Dickens with the 
story ? 

2. Name the principal characters. 

3. Tell the story of David Copperfield's early Hfe. 
Of his school days. 

4. Describe Peggotty, Jane Murdstone, Edward 
Murdstone, Barkis, Miss Trotwood, Traddles. 

5. Contrast Dora and Agnes. 

6. Contrast Miss Trotwood and Miss Murdstone. 

7. Tell how Miss Trotwood befriended her nephew. 
Describe her interview with Mr. Murdstone and his 
sister. 

8. Tell of Dora's and David's housekeeping. 

9. Describe the interior of Ham's cottage. 

10. Describe the death of Barkis, the Carrier. 

11. Picture the character of Uriah Heap. 

12. Read the author's description of the snow storm. 
Note the personal element which dominates his word 
painting. 



500 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



13. Picture the character of Agnes Wickfield. Of 
David Copperfield. 

14. Look up Copperfield's Golden Rules. 

15. Write a brief abstract of David Copperfield. 

REFERENCES. 

Dickens' Complete Works. 
Yesterdays With Authors, Fields. 
Life of Dickens, Forster. 

QUESTIONS ON DICKENS. 

1. Write a brief sketch of the life of Charles Dickens. 

2. Name his best novels. 

3. Describe your favorite characters from his books 
which you have read. 

4. Locate and characterize Sam Weller, Dora, Mr. 
Pickwick, Uriah Heap, Peggotty, Dr. Strong, Arabella, 
Bertha, Caleb, Tilly Slowboy, Mr. Pecksniff. 

5. Speak of Dickens's humor and pathos. 

6. Tell how he befriended the poor. Name some 
books written in their behalf. 

7. Upon what does Dickens's fame as an author de- 
pend ? 

8. Study the names which Dickens gives to his char- 
acters. Show their appropriateness. 

9. Who was Little Dorrit, Martin Chuzzlewit, 
Squeers, Little Nell, Mr. Gradgrind, Mr. Winkle, Miss 
Wickfield? 

10. Tell of Dickens's Christmas Stories. 



ANTHONY TROLLOPE 



501 



ANTHONY TROLLOPE. 
1815-1882. 

ANTHONY Trollope has been called the Balzac of 
England, probably because he has drawn his 
stories from the every-day life of English society as 
Balzac did his from that of the French. Nathaniel Haw- 
thorne, himself a most romantic writer, wrote in i860: 
"It is odd enough that my own individual taste is for 
quite another class of works than those which I myself 
am able to write. If I were to meet with such books as 
mine by another writer, I don't believe I should be able 
to get through them. Have you ever read the novels 
of Anthony Trollope? They precisely suit my taste — 
solid and substantial, written on the strength of beef and 
through the inspiration of ale, and just as real as if some 
giant had hewn a great lump out of the earth and put 
it under a glass case, with all its inhabitants going about 
their daily business, and not suspecting that they were 
being made a show of." 

Of this criticism Trollope wrote "the criticism, whether 
just or unjust, describes with wonderful accuracy the 
purport that I have ever had in view in my writing. 
I have always desired to 'hew out some lump of earth' 
and to make men and women walk upon it just as they 
do walk here among us, — with not more of excellence, 
nor with exaggerated baseness, — so that my readers 
might recognize human beings like themselves, and not 
feel themselves to be carried away among gods or de- 
mons. If I could do this, then I thought I might succeed 
in impregnating the mind of the novel-reader with a 



502 



STUDIES IN BRITISH LITEEATURE 



feeling that honesty is the best poHcy ; that truth prevails 
while falsehood fails; that a girl will be loved as she is 
pure and sweet, and unselfish; that a man will be hon- 
ored as he is true and honest, and brave of heart; that 
things meanly done are ugly and odious, and things 
nobly done beautiful and gracious." With this end in 
view it may be said that Trollope succeeded admirably 
and it is probably to his books that future generations 
will turn for a faithful portraiture of the manners and 
tastes of the English people in the middle nineteenth 
century. 

Anthony Trollope was born in London but while he 
was a baby his father moved his family to a large farm 
he had leased near Harrow. Mr. Trollope was a disap- 
pointed and not very practical man who having failed in 
the profession of the law, adopted the almost more diffi- 
cult one of gentleman farmer ; his family became poorer 
each year until his death. Anthony's childhood was sad- 
dened by poverty, humiliation and disaster. His mother 
was an energetic and thoroughly good woman ; after the 
father's death she supported the family by her writings 
which were voluminous and profitable, though she only 
began to write after she was fifty-six years old. At nine- 
teen Anthony obtained employment in the Post-office 
Department, and was sent in an official capacity to Ire- 
land, from which country he afterward drew many of 
his scenes and characters. He remained a very efficient 
member of the Post-office Department for many years, 
and when he decided to resign in 1861 his action was 
much regretted. His life was a happy and prosperous 
one, he is an example of what may be achieved by in- 
dustry and perseverance ; starting as a poor clerk with a 



ANTHONY TROLLOPE 



503 



salary of four hundred and fifty dollars a year, he lived 
to be promoted to higher positions in the Postal Depart- 
ment and to have entrusted to him important matters 
needing intelligence and discretion. He was sent on im- 
portant missions to Egypt, to the West Indies, to Amer- 
ica, and everywhere did his work thoroughly ; while so 
employed he earned a large fortune with his pen, he 
wrote many books which brought him more than three 
hundred thousand dollars, all these were written during 
the early morning hours, before it was necessary to be 
at his office. He had a servant who was paid to wake 
him at five o'clock every morning, he would write till 
eight o'clock and then live the life of the ordinary man 
of affairs for the rest of the ^ day. In his autobiography 
he lays great stress on the value of this methodical ar- 
rangement of his time. 

The large fortune he earned with his pen enabled him 
to lead generously, surrounded by warmly attached 
friends, that life of the English country gentleman and 
man of letters, which was to him the most desirable life 
on earth. He was ardently devoted to the very English 
sport of fox-hunting and many of his best passages are 
descriptions of runs in various parts of the country. He 
hunted to within a few years of his death. He was a 
loving husband and father and was able to give his chil- 
dren those advantages of early education which he him- 
self had so sadly lacked. He died in 1882 after a short 
illness. 

The works of Trollope could never be recommended 
as models of style. His stories abound in grammatical 
errors of which no high school graduate would be guilty. 
In this respect he cannot be compared to his loved and 



504 STUDIES IN BEITISH LITEEATURE 

admired Mend Thackeray, but it may be said that there 
is in Trollope a knowledge of ordinary human nature in 
its various shades and moods which is even wider than 
that of the great writer of Vanity Fair, while through- 
out his stories there is a wholesome delight in what is 
good, pure and noble which the reader finds infectious 
and which is refreshing as a sea breeze. 

SELECTIONS FOR READING. 

Trollope's most interesting works are the series con- 
tained in The Chronicles of Barsetshire and the Parlia- 
mentary series. In these works English society of the 
middle nineteenth century may be said to be very com- 
pletely and very faithfully represented. Orley Farm, 
which depicts the early home of the author, had a great 
popularity* and the illustrations were furnished by the 
artist, Millais. Ayala's Angel is a pretty story well told. 
The Three Clerks is interesting because it contains scenes 
which record Trollope's early personal experiences in the 
postoffice. 

QUESTIONS ON TROLLOPE. 

1. Write brief sketch of his life. 

2. Under what circumstances did Trollope write his 
novels ? 

3. What is their especial merit? 

4. What great American writer enjoyed reading Trol- 
lope's stories? 

5. What English sport was enjoyed by Trollope? 

6. What two series of his books contain the most 
complete picture of English life? 



MAEY ANN EVANS 



505 



MARY ANN EVANS. 
1819-1880. 

"George Eliot." 

GEORGE Eliot holds her place in literature by her 
great novels, Adam Bede, Romola, Middlemarch, 
and The Mill on the Floss. Other well-known novels are 
Daniel Deronda, Felix Holt, Silas Marner, and Scenes 
of Clerical Life. She was also the author of a number 
of poems, three volumes in all. Among the best known 
of these are Two Lovers, How Lisa Loved the King, The 
Spanish Gypsy, Brother and Sister, and The Choir hivisi- 
ble. The two poems last mentioned are her best poetical 
productions. She was, too, an essayist of considerable 
merit. In all her writings she tells the story of the soul, 
and her characters are brought very near to the reader. 

Mary Ann Evans was born at Arbury Farm, Warwick- 
shire, England, November 22, 1819. Her father was a 
thrifty farmer whose traits of character are partly repro- 
duced in Adam Bede and Caleb Garth. Her birthplace 
was a charming red-brick, ivy-covered dwelling called 
''Griff House." Here she spent the first twenty-one years 
of her life, which she partly reproduced in The Mill on 
the Floss, representing herself as Maggie Tulliver. Her 
own youthful longings and aspirations were thus inter- 
woven in her description of Maggie : "A creature full of 
eager, passionate longings for all that was beautiful and 
glad; thirsty for all knowledge; with an ear straining 
after dreamy music that died away and would not come 
near to her ; with a blind unconscious yearning for some- 
thing that would link together the wonderful impressions 



506 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



of this mysterious life, and give her soul a sense of home 
in it." Her only sister, Christiana ("Chrissy") is repre- 
sented as Celia in Middlemarch. Tom Tulliver is a char- 
acterization of her only brother. We get a glimpse of 
him again in her most beautiful poem, Brother and 
Sister: — 

If he said * * Hush ! * ' I tried to hold my breath ; 

Wherever he said ' ' Come ! " I stepped in Faith. 
******* 

His years with others must the sweeter be 
For those brief days he spent in loving me. 

Miss Evans had the best education which the private 
schools of her time could give her. She was a great 
reader, and eagerly read the best books by all the famous 
writers; Milton was her especial favorite. After her 
mother's death her father transferred his family to Cov- 
entry, where his daughter formed the acquaintance of 
many great men and women. Later in life she had as 
friends Browning, Tennyson, Spencer, and other literary 
people. She married George Henry Lewes, a prominent 
author, in 1854, and it was through his influence that she 
wrote her first novel, though she had previously been 
engaged in literary work. Her pen-name, George Eliot, 
was selected because George was her husband's name, 
and Eliot was a good mouth-filling, easily pronounced 
word. Adam Bede, following her Scenes from Clerical 
Life, which appeared first as a series of tales in Black- 
wood's Magazine, was her first novel, and brought her 
prominently into public notice. It was received with de- 
light and she was at once placed in the first rank of writ- 
ers of fiction. The Mill on the Floss, Silas Marner, 
Romola, Felix Holt, Middlemarch, Daniel Deronda, and 



MARY ANN EVANS 



507 



three volumes of poems now followed each other in rapid 
succession. The last literary work published during her 
lifetime was a series of essays entitled The Impressions of 
Theophrastus Such. 

Mr. Lewes died in 1878, and two years later Mrs. 
Lewes married J. W. Cross, a London banker. She died 
about six months later at Cheyne Walk, Chelsea, London, 
December 22, 1880. On the 29th, amidst a driving storm 
of sleet and snow, friends and admirers followed all that 
was mortal of George Eliot to Highgate Cemetery, where 
she was interred with tributes of flowers and tears beside 
the grave of Mr. Lewes. 

MEMORY SELECTIONS. 

Our deeds shall travel with us from afar. 

And what we have been makes us what we are. 

When Death, the great Reconciler, has come, it is 
never our tenderness that we repent of, but our severity. 

May I reach 
That purest heaven, be to other souls 
The cup of strength in some great agony, 
Enkindle generous ardor, feed pure love, 
Beget the smiles that have no cruelty — 
Be the swett presence of a good diffused. 
And in diffusion even more intense. 
So shall I join the choir invisible 
Whose music is the gladness of the world. 

Oh, the anguish of that thought, that we can never 
atone to our dead for the stinted affection we gave them, 
for the light answers we returned to their plaints or their 



508 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



pleadings, for the little reverence we showed to that 
sacred human soul that lived so close to us, and was the 
divinest thing God has given us to know ! 

We could never have loved the earth so well if we 
had had no childhood in it. 
Read The Mill on the Floss. 

QUESTIONS. 

1. Characterize Mr. TuUiver. 

2. Tell of Tom and Maggie as boy and girl. Describe 
their fishing expedition. 

3. Tell of Maggie's adventure with the gypsies. 

4. Tell of Tom's school days, and of Maggie's visit to 
him. Of the abrupt ending of his school days. 

5. Compare Tom and Philip Wakem as school boys. 
How did they get on together? 

6. What characters gave voice to the following 
thoughts : — ''All the learnin' my father ever paid for was 
a bit o' birch at one end and the alphabet at th' other." 

"It's puzzHng work, talking is." 

''When a workman knows the use of his tools, he can 
make a door as well as a window." 

"I've been a great deal happier since I have given up 
thinking about what is easy and pleasant, and being dis- 
contented because I couldn't have my own will. Our life 
is determined for us — and it makes the mind very free 
when we give up wishing, and only think of bearing what 
is laid upon us, and doing what is given us to do." 

7. Do you like the tale of The Mill on the Floss? 
Give reasons for your answer. 

8. Do you Hke the way the author ends the story? 



MARY ANN EVANS 



509 



9. Question for debate : "Resolved, that the author 
ended the tale wisely." 

REFERENCES. 

Four Years of Novel Reading, Moulton. 
George Eliot and Her Heroines, Woolson. 
George Eliot's Life, by her husband, /. W. Cross. 

QUESTIONS ON GEORGE ELIOT. 

1. Write a brief sketch of the life of George Eliot. 

2. Name four well known novels, two poems, one vol- 
ume of essays. 

3. What character is partially a portrayal of the 
author? Mention other characters who represent mem- 
bers of her family, and tell where all are found. 

4. Mention some noted personages who were friends 
of George EHot. 

5. Locate and describe the following characters : 
Silas Marner, Hetty Sorrel, Adam Bede, Mary Garth, 
Dorothea, Romola, Maggie TuUiver, Dinah, Philip 
Wakem, Rosamond, Daniel Deronda, Gwendolin, CeHa. 



History maketh a yoimg man to be old, without either wrinkles 
or gray hairs, privileging him with the experience of age, without 
either the infirmities or inconveniences thereof. — Fuller. 



CHAPTER X. 

BRITISH HISTORIANS AND ESSAYISTS. 

Francis Bacon. 

John Dryden. 

Joseph Addison. 

Samuel Johnson. 

Charles Lamb. 

Thomas Carlyle. 

Thomas Babington Macaulay. 

John Ruskin. 



Life is a building. It rises slowly, day by day, through the 
years. Every new lesson we learn lays a block on the edifice 
which is rising silently within us. Every experience, every touch 
of another life on ours, every influence that impresses us, every 
book we read, every conversation we have, every act of our com- 
monest days, adds to the invisible building. — Miller, 



FRANCIS BACON. 



1561-1626. 

The Father of Experimental Science. 

The wisest, brightest, meanest of mankind. — Pope. 

PRINCIPAL writings : — Essays, fifty-eight in all, upon 
various subjects. Was a lawyer by profession, 
and held a number of influential government posi- 
tions, but he was unfaithful to his duty, received bribes, 
and rendered unjust decisions, for which he was ban- 
ished from court. He was always performing experi- 
ments, and finally became the martyr as well as *'the 
father of experimental science." While out riding one 
day in early spring he bought a fowl and stuffed it with 
snow, intending to see if snow would not prove as good 
a preservative as salt, but he got thoroughly chilled in 
the performance, and finally was so overcome that he 
could not reach home. He was taken to the home of a 
friend, where he died in a few days. 

MEMORY SELECTIONS. 

*'Read, not to contradict and refute, nor to believe and 
take for granted, nor to find talk and discourse, but to 
weigh and consider. Some books are to be tasted, others 
to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested 
— that is, some books are to be read only in parts ; others 
to be read, but not curiously, and some few to be read 
wholly and with dilgence and attention." 

513 



514 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 

*'Were it not better for a man in a fair room to set up 
one great light, or branching candlestick of lights, than 
to go about with a rush-light into every dark corner?" 

"Reading maketh a full man. conference a ready man, 
and writing an exact man." 

"Some men think that the gratification of curiosity 
is the end of knowledge ; some the love of fame ; some 
the pleasure of dispute ; some the necessity of supporting 
themselves by their knowledge: but the real use of all 
knowledge is this, that we should dedicate that reason 
which was given us by God to the use and advantage of 
man." 

"No pleasure is comparable to the standing upon the 
vantage ground of truth." 

"Libraries are the shrines where all the relics of the 
ancient saints, full of true virtue, and that without delu- 
sion or imposture, are preserved and reposed." 

CRITICISMS. 

1. His faults were — we write it with pain — coldness 
of heart and meanness of spirit. He seems to have been 
incapable of feeling strong afifection, of facing great 
dangers, of making great sacrifices. His desires were 
set on things below. — Macaulay, 

2. His intimacy with every department of human 
knowledge, except mathematics, is marvelous ; while few 
writers have been more eloquent, more imaginative, or 
witty. — Selected. 

REFERENCES. 

Life and Letters of Bacon, Spedding. 
Essay on Bacon, Macaulay. 



JOHN DEYDEN 



515 



JOHN DRYDEN. 
1631-1700. 

I confess my chief endeavors are to delight the age in which 
I live. —Dry den. 

He had, beyond most, the gift of the right word. — Lowell. 

PRINCIPAL works : — Essays, poems, twenty-eight 
plays for the stage, and a translation of the .^^nid. 
Best known essays are Essay on Dramatic Art, The Hind 
and the Panther (a defense of the Church of Rome), and 
a defense of the Church of England. Finest poem, Alex- 
ander's Feast, a song in honor of St. Cecilia's Day, 
which he composed in a single night. Mistress Anne 
Killigrezv, a memorial ode, and Absalom and Achitophel, 
a satire, are famous poems. He died just three hundred 
years after the death of Chaucer, by whose side he was 
buried in Westminster Abbey. 

MEMORY SELECTIONS. 

Better to hunt in fields for health unbought 
Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught. 
The wise for cure on exercise depend: 
God never made his work for man to mend. 

Errors like straws upon the surface flow ; 

He who would search for pearls must dive below. 

Bets at the first were fool-traps, where the wise 
Like spiders lay in ambush for the flies. 

Forgiveness to the injured does belong, 

But they ne'er pardon who have done the wrong. 



516 ' STUDIES IN BRITISH LITEEATURE 



Happy the man, and happy he alone, 

He who can call today his own : 

He, who secure within, can say, 

Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today. 

Ill habits gather by unseen degrees, 

As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas. 

FAMILIAR LINES. 

1. Be careful still of the main chance. 

2. Few know the use of life before 'tis past, 

3. A happy genius is the gift of nature. 

4. Men are but children of a larger growth. 

5. None but the brave deserve the fair. 

CRITICISMS. 

In mind and manner his foremost quality is energy. 
In ripeness of mind and bluf¥ heartiness of expression, 
he takes rank with the best. His phrase is always a 
short-cut to his sense, for his estate was too spacious for 
him to need that trick of winding the path of his thought 
about, and planting it out with clumps of epithet, by 
which the landscape gardeners of literature give to a 
paltry half-acre the air of a park. — Lowell. 

REFERENCES. 

Essay on Dryden, Lozvell. 
Essay on Dryden, Macanlay, 



JOSEPH ADDISON 



617 



JOSEPH ADDISON. 
1672-1719. 

"The greatest prose zvriter of his time." 
Give days and nights, sir, to the study of Addison, if you mean 
to be a good writer, or, what is more worth, an honest man. 

— Br. Johnson. 

J prose writers, was born at Milston in Wiltshire, 
osEPH Addison, one of England great classical 
England, May i, 1672, the same year with Peter the 
Great, and six years after the London fire. His father, 
rector of Milston, sent him to the famous Charter House 
School in London to prepare for college. At the age of 
fifteen young Addison entered Oxford, where he soon 
distinguished himself. A short time before his gradua- 
tion he wrote some eulogistic verses upon William the 
Third, and influential friends secured for him, through 
these, a government pension of £300 a year. He was 
now able to satisfy his longing for travel, and imme- 
diately upon taking his degree in 1693 set out for the 
Continent and spent some time studying and traveling in 
France and Italy. His pension ceased with the death of 
King William, but he immediately commended himself 
to royal favor by writing a poem. The Campaign, com- 
memorating the battle of Blenheim and praising the vic- 
tor, Duke of Marlborough. Queen Anne at once made 
him Under Secretary of State, and, later, Chief Secre- 
tary to Ireland, where he went to reside. 

About this time his college friend, Dick Steele, started 
The Tatler, a paper having "the general purpose to 
expose the false arts of life, to pull off the disguises of 
cunning vanity and affectation, and to recommend a gen- 



518 STUDIES IN BEITISH LITERATURE 

eral simplicity in our dress, our discourse, and our be- 
havior." Addison was a frequent contributor, and 
through this medium his great powers as a morahst and 
humorist first became known. He signed his articles by 
one of the four letters C. L. I. O., either the letters of 
the name Clio, or the initial of the places where he was 
in the habit of writing, — Chelsea, London, Islington, or 
the Office. After the demise of The Tatler, Addison con- 
tributed to The Spectator, a new sheet which had just 
sprung into life. His contributions consisted of essays 
and short articles on a variety of subjects. 'These were 
happy imitations of Arabian tales, thoughtful medita- 
tions, criticisms for the guidance of the public taste, and 
numerous sketches of the characters commonly to be 
met with in the society of the time. Among the best of 
these are the papers that refer to Sir Roger de Cov- 
erley, a good old country squire." 

In 171 3 Addison reached the height of his fame by his 
publication of the Tragedy of Cato. It met with enviable 
success upon the stage, but critics of the present day 
claim that it is sadly deficient in plot and delineation of 
character. Addison wrote considerable poetry, much of 
it being hymns, and one or two sacred pieces will prob- 
ably endure as long as the language. But it is as an 
essayist that he is best known. For humor and poetic 
grace; for satire and for moral influence the essays of 
The Spectator remain unsurpassed. His essay, The 
Vision of Mirza, and his notable hymn, beginning: — 

When all thy mercies, O my God! 
^ My rising soul surveys, 

will probably never diminish in luster or moulder away. 
Addison married the Countess of Warwickshire in 



JOSEPH ADDISON 



519 



1 716, but the illustrious lad}^ had such an inflammable tem- 
per that the marriage was particularly unhappy. He sur- 
vived only three years after this event, dying at Holland 
House, Kensington, London, June 17, 17 19, at the early 
age of forty-seven. Addison has been described as a 
kind, amiable gentleman, who lived an almost stainless 
Hfe. 

MEMORY SELECTIONS. 

"Few consider how much we are indebted to govern- 
ment, because few can represent how wretched mankind 
would be without it." 

cheerful temper, joined with innocence, will make 
beauty attractive, knowledge delightful, and wit good 
natured. It will lighten sickness, poverty, and affliction, 
convert ignorance into an amiable simplicity, and render 
deformity itself agreeable." 

*'The hypocrite would not put on the appearance of 
virtue if it was not the most proper means to gain love." 

''Fine sense and exalted sense are not half so useful as 
common sense ; there are forty men of wit for one man 
of good sense ; and he that will carry nothing about with 
him but gold, will every day be at a loss for readier 
change." 

THE VISION OF MIRZA. 

WHEN I was at Grand Cairo I picked up several 
Oriental manuscripts, which I have still by me. 
Among others I met with one entitled The Visions of 
Mirza, which I have read over with great pleasure. I 
intend to give it to the public when I have no other enter- 
tainment for them, and shall begin with the first vision, 
which I have translated word for word as follows: — 



520 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITEEATURE 



On the fifth day of the moon, which, according to the 
custom of my forefathers, I always keep holy, after hav- 
ing washed myself and offered up my morning devotions, 
I ascended the high hills of Bagdat in order to pass the 
rest of the day in meditation and prayer. As I was here 
airing myself on the tops of the mountains, I fell into a 
profound contemplation on the vanity of human Hfe; 
and, passing from one thought to another, surely, said I, 
man is but a shadow and life a dream. Whilst I was 
thus musing I cast my eyes towards the summit of a rock 
that was not far from me, when I discovered one in the 
habit of a shepherd, with a little musical instrument in 
his hand. As I looked upon him he applied it to his 
lips, and began to play upon it. The sound of it was 
exceedingly sweet, and wrought into a variety of tunes 
that were inexpressibly melodious, and altogether differ- 
ent from anything I had ever heard. They put me in 
mind of those heavenly airs that are played to the de- 
parted souls of good men upon their first arrival in 
paradise, to wear out the impressions of the last agonies, 
and qualify them for the pleasures of that happy place. 
My heart melted away in secret raptures. 

I had been often told that the rock before me was 
the haunt of a genius, and that several had been enter- 
tained with music who had passed by it, but never heard 
that the musician had before made himself visible. When 
he had raised my thoughts by those transporting airs 
which he played, to taste the pleasures of his conversa- 
tion, as I looked upon him like one astonished, he beck- 
oned to me, and by the waving of his hand directed me 
to approach the place where he sat. I drew near with 
that reverence which is due to a superior nature; and 



JOSEPH ADDISON 



531 



as my heart was entirely subdued by the captivating 
strains I had heard, I fell down at his feet and wept. 
The genius smiled upon me with a look of compassion 
and affability that familiarized him to my imagination, 
and at once dispelled all the fears and apprehensions 
with which I approached him. He lifted me from the 
ground, and taking me by the hand, ''Mirza," said he, 
have heard thee in thy soliloquies; follow me." 
He then led me to the highest pinnacle of the rock, 
and placing me on the top of it, "Cast thine eyes east- 
ward," said he, "and tell me what thou seest." "I see," 
said I, "a huge valley and a prodigious tide of water roll- 
ing through it." "The valley that thou seest," said he, 
"is the vale of misery, and the tide of water that thou 
seest is part of the great tide of eternity." "What is the 
reason," said I, "that the. tide I. see rises out of a thick 
mist at one end, and again loses itself in a thick mist at 
the other?" "What thou seest," said he, "is that portion 
of eternity which is called Time, measured out by the 
sun, and reaching from the beginning of the world to its 
consummation. Examine now," said he, "this sea that 
is bounded with darkness at both ends, and tell me what 
thou discoverest in it." "I see a bridge," said I, "stand- 
ing in the midst of the tide." "The bridge thou seest," 
said he, "is human life; consider it attentively." Upon 
a more leisurely survey of it, I found that it consisted of 
three score and ten entire arches, with several broken 
arches, which, added to those that were entire, made up 
the number to about a hundred. As I was counting the 
arches, the genius told me that this bridge consisted at 
first of about a thousand arches, but that a great flood 
swept away the rest, and left the bridge in the ruinous 



522 



STUDIES IN BRITISH LITEEATURE 



condition I now beheld it. *'But tell me further," said 
he, "what thou discoverest on it." ''1 see multitudes, of 
people passing over it," said I, "and a black cloud hanging 
on each end of it." As I looked more attentively, I saw 
several of the passengers dropping through the bridge 
into the great tide that flowed underneath it; and upon 
further examination perceived that there were innumer- 
able trapdoors that lay concealed in the bridge, which 
the passengers no sooner trod upon, but they fell through 
them into the tide, and immediately disappeared. These 
hidden pitfalls were set very thick at the entrance of the 
bridge, so that throngs of people no sooner broke through 
the cloud, but many of them fell into them. They grew 
thinner towards the middle, but multiplied and lay closer 
together towards the end of the arches that were entire. 

There were, indeed, some persons, but their number 
was very small, that continued a kind of hobbling march 
on the broken arches, but fell through one after another, 
being quite tired and spent with so long a walk. 

I 'passed some time in the contemplation of this won- 
derful structure, and the great variety of objects which 
it presented. My heart was filled with a deep melancholy 
to see several dropping unexpectedly in the midst of 
mirth and jollity, and catching at everything that stood 
by them to save themselves. Some were looking up 
towards the heavens in a thoughtful posture, and, in the 
midst of a speculation, stumbled, and fell out of sight. 
Multitudes were very busy in the pursuit of bubbles that 
glittered in their eyes, and danced before them; but 
often when they thought themselves within the reach of 
them, their footing failed, and down they sank. 

The genius seeing me indulge myself on this melan- 



JOSEPH ADDISON 



523 



choly prospect, told me I had dwelt long enough upon it. 
''Take thine eyes off the bridge," said he, "and tell me if 
thou yet seest anything thou dost not comprehend." 
Upon looking up, "What mean/' said I, "those great 
flights of birds that are perpetually hovering about the 
bridge, and settling upon it from time to time? I see 
vultures, harpies, ravens, cormorants ; and, among many 
other feathered creatures, several little winged boys, that 
perch in great numbers upon the middle arches." 
"These," said the genius, "are Envy, Avarice, Supersti- 
tion, Despair, Love, with the like cares and passions that 
infest human life." 

I here fetched a deep sigh. "Alas," said I, "man was 
made in vain ! how is he given away to misery and mor- 
tality ! tortured in life, and swallowed up in death !" 
The genius, being moved with compassion towards me, 
bade me quit so imcomfortable a prospect. "Look no 
more," said he, "on man in the first stage of his exist- 
ence, in his setting out for eternity, but cast thine eye 
on that thick mist into which the tide bears the several 
generations of mortals that fall into it." I directed my 
sight as I was ordered, and (whether or no the good 
genius strengthened it with any supernatural force, or 
dissipated part of the mist that was before too thick for 
the eye to penetrate) I saw the valley opening at the 
farther end, and spreading forth into an immense ocean, 
that had a huge rock of adamant running through the 
midst of it, and dividing it into two equal parts. The 
clouds still rested on one-half of it, insomuch that I could 
discover nothing in it ; but the other half appeared to 
me a vast ocean planted with innumerable islands that 
were covered with fruits and flowers, and interwoven 



524 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITEEATURE 



with a thousand little shining seas that ran among them. 
I could see persons dressed in glorious habits, with gar- 
lands upon their heads, passing among the trees, lying 
down by the sides of fountains, or resting on beds of 
flowers ; and could hear a confused harmony of singing 
birds, falling waters, human voices, and musical instru- 
ments. Gladness grew in me upon the discovery of so 
delightful a scene. I wished for the wings of an eagle 
that I might fly away to those happy seats ; but the genius 
told me there was no passage to them except through 
the gates of death that I saw opening every moment upon 
the bridge. "The islands," said he, "that lie so fresh and 
green before thee, and with which the whole face of the 
ocean appears spotted as far as thou canst see, are more 
in number than the sands on the seashore ; there are 
myriads of islands behind those which thou here discov- 
erest, reaching farther than thine eye, or even thine imag- 
ination, can extend itself. These are the mansions of 
good men after death, who, according to the degree and 
kinds of virtue in which they excelled, are distributed 
among these several islands, which abound with pleas- 
ures of different kinds and degrees, suitable to the rel- 
ishes and perfections of those who are settled in them. 
Every island is a paradise accommodated to its respective 
inhabitants. Are not these, O Mirza! habitations worth 
contending for? Does life appear miserable, that gives 
thee opportunites of earning such a reward? Is death 
to be feared, that will convey thee to so happy an exist- 
ence? Think not man was made in vain, who has such 
an eternity reserved for him." I gazed with inexpressible 
pleasure on these happy islands. At length, said I, "Show 
me now, I beseech thee, the secrets that lie hid under 



JOSEPH ADDISON 



525 



those dark clouds which cover the ocean on the other 
side of the rock of adamant." The genius making me no 
answer, I turned about to address myself to him a second 
time, but I found that he had left me. I then turned 
again to the vision which I had been so long contemplat- 
ing; but instead of the rolHng tide, the arched bridge, 
and the happy islands, I saw nothing but the long, hollow 
valley of Bagdat, with oxen, sheep, and camels grazing 
upon the sides of it. 

CRITICISMS. 

1. He employed all his talent and all his writings in 
giving us the notion of what we are worth, and of what 
we ought to be. Of two tragedies which he composed, 
one was on the death of Cato, the most virtuous of the 
Romans ; the other on that of Socrates, the most virtuous 
of the Greeks. — H. A. Taine. 

2. His style was long regarded as perhaps the best 
model of English prose. It is pure, simple, and elegant. 
His humor is quiet and refined, his satire kindly, and his 
teaching full of those lessons that make us wiser men 
and better members of society. — BlaisdeU's Am. and Brit- 
ish Authors. 

REFERENCES. 

Select Essays of Addison, edited by Thurher. 
Addison's Life and Writings, Macaulay. 

QUESTIONS ON ADDISON. 

1. Sketch the life of Addison. ' 

2. What famous author lived contemporary with 
Addison? 

3. What famous essayist, novelist, writer of fiction, 
writer of hymns, and two great poets lived in his day? 



526 



STTJDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



4. While at college he formed the lifelong friendship 
of a man always associated with The Spectator ; who was 
he? 

5. What was his first literary attempt? To whom 
was this poem addressed, and with what result? 

6. What poem did Addison write to celebrate the bat- 
tle of Blenheim? How was he rewarded? What noted 
poet also wrote a poem founded on this battle? 

7. Do you like Addison's style? What essays have 
you read? 

'8. Name some of his best known work. 

SAMUEL JOHNSON. 
I 709- I 784. 

DR. Johnson's most valuable work is the Lives of 
the Poets, Other important works are his Dic- 
tionary of the English Language, which cost him several 
years of hard labor ; Rasselas, written to pay some debts 
and defray the funeral expenses of his mother* The 
Vanity of Human Wishes; Irene; London; The Ram- 
bler; and The Idler. Johnson was the central figure of 
the London Literary Club. He is buried at the foot of 
Shakespeare's monument in Westminster Abbey. 

MEMORY SELECTIONS. 

"A man should blush to think a falsehood; 'tis the 
crime of cowards." 

'*Of all the griefs that harass the distress'd, 
Sure the most bitter is a scornful jest, 
Fate never wounds more deep the generous heart. 
Than when the blockhead's insult points the dart." 



CHARLES LAMB 



527 



"The diminutive chains of habit are seldom heavy 
enough to be fek until they are too strong to be broken." 

"Knowledge always desires increase ; it is like fire, 
which must be first kindled by some external agent, but 
which will afterwards propagate itself." 

"Order is a lovely nymph, the child of beauty and 
wisdom ; her attendants are comfort, neatness, and ac- 
tivity ; her abode is the valley of happiness ; she is al- 
ways to be found when sought for, and never appears 
so lovely as when contrasted with her opponent — dis- 
order." ' 

CRITICISMS. 

1. "Johnson first enlisted wit and eloquence, together 
with argument and learning, on the side of revealed re- 
ligion, and first turned the literary current in its favor." 
— Selected. 

2. "Johnson, to be sure, has a rough manner; but no 
man alive has a better heart. He has nothing of the 
bear but the skin." — Goldsmith. 

REFERENCES. 

Life of Johnson, BosivcU; Essay, Samuel Johnson, 
Macaiilay. 

CHARLES LAMB. , 
1775-1834. 

"The well-known essayist and humorist" 

P happy, original style he carried the humorous essay 
RiNCiPAL works : Essays of Elia, in which in his 
to a point of excellence perhaps never before attained; 



528 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 

Specimens of Old English Dramatists, Rosamond Gray, 
and Tales from Shakespeare. His sister Mary, of whom 
he was very fond, aided him in this latter work. The 
best part of Lamb's hfe was devoted to the care of this 
sister, who in a fit of insanity snatched a knife from the 
dinner table and stabbed her mother to the heart. She 
was at once confined to an asylum, but her brother 
solemnly pledged himself to care for her, and the au- 
thorities allowed him to take her home. Mary was not 
hopelessly insane all the time, having sane periods of 
, several days or months duration, during which she re- 
paid her brother with tenderness and affection for hi.s 
untiring care. After he was laid to rest in Edmonton 
churchyard, she became a raving maniac, and was con- 
fined to a hospital until her death thirteen years later. 

SELECTIONS. 

"The measure of choosing well, is whether a man 
likes what he has chosen." 

'T own that I am disposed to say grace upon twenty 
other occasions in the course of the day besides my din- 
ner. I want a form for setting out upon a pleasant 
walk, for a moonlight ramble, for a friendly meeting, or 
a solved problem. Why have we none for books, those 
spiritual repasts — a grace before Milton — a grace before 
Shakespeare — a devotional exercise proper to be said be- 
fore reading the Fairy Queen?" 

REFERENCES. 

Recollections of Charles Lamb, DeQuincey; Memo- 
rials of Charles Lamb, Talfourd. 



THOMAS CARLYLE 



529 



THOMAS CARLYLE. 
1795-1881. 

"I would go at all times further to see Carlyle than 
any man alive." — Dickens. 

HISTORIAN and Essayist. Principal works: — 
Life of Schiller, which first called attention to his 
great literary power; History of the French Revolution; 
Heroes and Hero Worship, first given as a series of lec- 
tures ; Life of Frederick the Great, his most voluminous 
and laborious work; Life of Cromwell; Essays on Scott, 
Johnson, and Burns, and on a variety of miscellaneous 
subjects, chief among which is On the Choice of Books. 
He entertained Emerson in his country home at Craigen- 
puttoch, afterward he went to London and lived in 
Cheyne Row for many years. He entertained Longfel- 
low, his great friend Coleridge, and many other noted 
literary persons. His wife, a capable and loving woman, 
whom he had failed to appreciate, died while he was 
away in Edinburgh, whither he had traveled, having 
been elected Rector of Edinburgh University. Carlyle 
was crushed by the blow and hurried home filled with 
remorse because of the stinted affection which he had 
given. He was often seen weeping over her grave in 
his lonely old age. Carlyle left his estate to the Uni- 
versity of Edinburgh to be used in granting yearly prizes 
of stipulated sums for those excellent in mathematics 
and English. He is buried in the little churchyard at 
Ecclefechan, Scotland, near his childhood home. 



I 



530 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



MEMORY SELECTIONS. 

"Give, us, O give us, the man who sings at his work. 
Be his occupation what it may, he is equal to any of 
those who follow the same pursuit in silent suUenness. 
He will do more in the same time — he will do it better 
— he will persevere longer." 

"The true university of these days is a collection of 
books." 

"A lie should be trampled on and extinguished wher- 
ever found. I am for fumigating the atmosphere, when 
I suspect that falsehood, like pestilence, breathes around 
me." 

"Make yourself an honest man and then you may be 
sure there is one rascal less in the world." 

FAMILIAR LINES. 

1. From the lowest depths there is a path to the lof- 
tiest heights." 

2. Pin thy faith to no man's sleeve ; hast thou not 
two eyes of thy own? 

3. Always there is a black spot in our sunshine ; it is 
the shadow of ourselves. 

4. One Life; a little gem of Time between two 
Eternities ; no second chance to us forever more ! 

5. Do the duty which lies nearest thee ! Thy sec- 
ond duty will already have become clearer. 

6. All true work is sacred. 

CRITICISMS. 

I. "Though not the safest of guides in politics or 
practical philosophy, his value as an inspirer and awak- 
ener cannot be over-estimated. It is a power which be- 



THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY 53 1 



longs only to the highest order of minds, for it is none 
but a divine fire that can so kindle and irradicate. The 
debt due him from those who listened to the teachings 
of his prime for revealing to them what sublime reserves 
of power even the humblest may find in manliness, sin- 
cerity, and self-reliance, can be paid with nothing short 
of reverential gratitude." — Lowell. 

2. 'The most original writer and powerful teacher 
of the age." — John Forster. 

REFERENCES. 

English Traits, Emerson ; Letters of Carlyle and Em- 
erson, Norton; Life of Carlyle, Fronde. 

THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY. 
1 800- 1 859. 

An honest, good sort of a fellow, made out of oat-meal. 

— Cdrlyle. 

He had the strength of ten men, immense memory, fun, fire, 
learning, politics, manners, and pride, and talks all the time in 
a steady torrent. — Emerson. 

TBOMAS Babington Macaulay, the illustrious his- 
torian, brilliant essayist, and noteworthy poet, was 
born near Leicester, England, in 1800. As a child 
he was very precocioi^s, and at the age of eight years 
wrote The Battle of Cheviot, and compiled a Com- 
pendium of Universal History. He prepared for college 
in a private school, and in 181 8 entered Trinity College, 
Cambridge, where he obtained the chancellor's medal for 
a poem on Pompeii, and the following year for a poem on 



532 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



Evening; received a fellowship and took his M. A. de- 
gree in 1825. Before this he began to contribute to 
Knight's Quarterly Magazine, in which his poems, 
Armada, Ivry, and The Battle of the League appeared. 
In 1825 he began his brilliant literary career in the 
Edinburgh Review by an article on Milton, which at once 
brought him great fame. 

In 1842 Macaulay issued his Lays of Ancient Rome, 
In 1848 appeared the first two of the five volumes of his 
History of England, which covers the period between the 
accession of James II. and the death of William III. 
This brilliant rhetorical exposition, although touched with 
partisanship and with a tendency to paradox, has attained 
the position of an English classic. It became at once 
immensely popular both in England and America, hav- 
ing a larger sale than any novel of that time. Macaulay 
had attained his great object, viz., /'the publication of 
knowledge in such an attractive form that, for a time, it 
superseded the novels on the tables of fashionable young 
ladies." 

Macaulay dearly loved England, and was fond of say- 
ing: "An acre in Middlesex is better than a principality 
in Utopia.'' He served for some time in Parliament, 
taking an active part in the discussions of the times, but 
was forced to retire from political life in 1856, owing to 
his failing health. The following year he was created a 
baron in consideration of his great literary merit. His 
principal works are his History of England, and his 
essays on Milton, Addison, Byron, Johnson, Goldsmith, 
and Chatham.' 

Lord Macaulay died suddenly of heart disease on the 
28th of December, 1859, at his home. Holly Lodge, in 



THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY 533 



Kensington, London. His body was interred in the 
Poets' Corner of Westminster Abbey. 

SELECTIONS. 

"Men are never so likely to discuss a question rightly 
as when they discuss it freely." 

Then none was for a party; 

Then all were for the state; 
Then the great man helped the poor, 

And the poor man loved the great. 
Then lands were fairly portioned ; 

Then spoils were fairly sold; 
The Romans were like brothers 

In the brave days of old. 

"The hearts of men are their books ; events are their 
tutors; great actions are their eloquence." 

THE BATTLE OF IVRY.* 
Now glory to the Lord of hosts, from whom all glories 
are ! 

And glory to our sovereign liege, King Henry of 
Navarre ! 

Now let there be the merry sound of music and of dance, 
Through thy cornfields green, and sunny vines, O pleas- 
ant land of France ! 

*0n his accession to the French crown, Henry the Fourth 
was opposed by 9. large part of his subjects under the Duke of 
Mayence, with the assistance of Spain and Savoy. In March, 
1590, he gained a decisive victory over that party at Ivry. Before 
the battle he a(^dressed his troops : ' ' My children, if you lose sight 
of your colors, rally to my white plume; you will always find 
it in the path to honor and glory. ' ' 



534 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 

And thou, Rochelle, our own Rochelle, proud city of the 
waters, 

Again let rapture light the eyes of all thy mourning 
daughters. 

As thou wert constant in our ills, be joyous in our joy; 
For cold and stiif and still are they who wrought thy 
walls annoy. 

• Hurrah ! Hurrah ! a single field hath turned the chance 
of war 

Hurrah, hurrah for Ivry and King Henry of Navarre! 

Oh, how our hearts were beating, when, at the dawn of 
day. 

We saw the army of the League drawn out in long array, 
With all its priest-led citizens and all its rebel peers. 
And Appenzel's stout infantry, and Egmont's Flemish 
spears ! 

There rode the brood of false Lorraine, the curses of 
our land; 

And dark Mayenne was in the midst, a truncheon in his 
hand ; 

And, as we looked on them, we thought of Seine's empur- 
pled flood, 

And good Coligni's hoary hair all dabbled with his blood ; 
And we cried unto the living God, who rules the fate of 
war. 

To fight for His own holy name and Henry of Navarre ! 

The King is come to marshal us, in all his armor 
drest ; 20 

And he has bound a snow-white plume upoh his gallant 
crest. 



THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY 535 



He looked upon his people, and a tear was in his eye ; 
He looked upon the traitors,., and his glance was stern 
and high. 

Right graciously he smiled on us, as rolled from wing 
to wing, 

Down all our line, in deafening shout, *'God save our 
lord the King !" 25 

"And if my standard-bearer fall, as fall full well he 
may,— 

For never saw I promise yet of such a bloody fray, — 
Press where ye see my white plume shine amidst the 
ranks of war. 

And be your oriflamme today the helmet of Navarre." 

Hurrah ! the foes are moving ! Hark to the mingled 
din 3» 

Of fife, and steed, and trump, and drum, and roaring 
culverin ! 

The fiery Duke is pricking fast across St. Andre's plain, 
With all the hireling chivalry of Guelders and Almayne. 
Now by the lips of those ye love, fair gentlemen of 
France, 

Charge for the golden lilies now, — upon them with the 
lance ! 

A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in 
rest, 

A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow- 
white crest; 

And in they burst, and on they rushed, while, like a guid- 
ing star, 

Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of 
Navarre. 



536 STUDIES IN BEITISH LITERATURE 

Now God be praised, the day is ours! Mayenne hath 
turned his rein; « *° 

D'Aumale hath cried for quarter; the Flemish count is 
slain. 

Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a Biscay 
gale; 

The field is heaped with bleeding steeds, and flags, and 
cloven mail. 

And then we thought on vengeance ; and all along our 
van, 

"Remember St. Bartholomew," was passed from man to 
man. 

But out spake gentle Hen'ry then: "No Frenchman is 
my foe: 

Down, down with every foreigner, but let your brethren 
go- 

Oh! was there ever such a knight, in friendship or in 
war. 

As our sovereign lord. King Henry, the soldier of 
Navarre ! 

Right well fought all the Frenchmen who fought for 

France to-day; 
And many a lordly banner God gave them for a prey. 
But we of the religion have borne us best in fight; 
And the good Lord of Rosny hath ta'en the cornet white ; 
Our own true Maximilian the cornet white hath ta'en ; 
The cornet white with crosses black, the flag of false 

Lorraine. 

Up with it high, unfurl it wide, that all the host may 
know 



THOMAS BABINGT'ON MAGAULAY 



537 



How God hath humbled the proud house which wrought 

His Church such woe. 
Then on the ground, while trumpets sound their loudest 

points of war, 

.Fling the red shreds, a footcloth meet for Henry of 
Navarre. 

Ho, maidens of Vienna ! Ho matrons of Lucerne ! 
Weep, weep, and rend your hair for those who never 

shall return. ^® 
Ho, Philip! send for charity thy Mexican pistoles, 
That Antwerp monks may sing a mass for thy poor 

spearmen's souls. 
Ho, gallant nobles of the League ! look that your arms be 

bright ; 

Ho, burghers of St. Genevieve! keep watch and ward 
to-night. 

For our God hath crushed the tyrant, our God hath raised 
the slave, 

And mocked the counsel of the wise and the valor of the 
brave. 

Then glory to His holy name, from whom all glories are ? 
And glory to our sovereign lord, King Henry of 
Navarre ! 

PETEE THE GEEAT. 

ON THE loth of January a vessel from Holland 
anchored off Greenwich, and was welcomed with 
great respect. Peter the First, Czar of Muscovy, was 
on board. He took boat with a few attendants, and was 
rowed up the Thames to Norfolk Street, where a house 
overlooking the river had been prepared for his recep- 



538 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



tion. His journey is an epoch in the history not only of 
his own country, but of ours, and of the world. To the 
polished nations of Western Europe, the empire which 
he governed had till then been what Bokhara or Siam is 
to us. That empire, indeed, though less extensive than 
at present, was the most extensive that had ever obeyed 
a single chief. 

On the Baltic Russia had not then a single port. Her 
maritime trade with the other nations of Christendom 
was entirely carried on at Archangel, a place which had 
been created and was supported ,by adventurers from 
our island. In the days of the Tudors a ship from Eng- 
land, seeking a northeast passage to the land of silk and 
spice, had discovered the White Sea. The barbarians 
who dwelt on the shores of that dreary gulf had never 
before seen such a portent as a vessel of a hundred and 
sixty tons burden. They fled in terror ; and, when they 
were pursued and overtaken, prostrated themselves before 
the chief of the strangers, and kissed his feet. He suc- 
ceeded in opening a friendly communication with them, 
and from that time there had been a regular commercial 
intercourse between our country and the subjects of the 
Czar. 

The commercial intercourse between England and Rus- 
sia made some diplomatic intercourse necessary. The 
diplomatic intercourse, however, was only occasional. 
Three or four times in a century extraordinary embassies 
were sent from Whitehall to the Kremlin, and from the 
Kremlin to Whitehall. The English embassies had his- 
torians, whose narratives may still be read with interest. 
Those historians described vividly, and sometimes bit- 
terly, the savage ignorance and the squalid poverty of 



THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY 



539 



the barbarous country in which they had sojourned. In 
that country, they said, there was neither Hterature nor 
science, neither school nor college. The best educated 
men could barely read and write. The arithmetic was 
the arithmetic of the Dark Ages. Even in the imperial 
treasury the computations were made by the help of balls 
strung on wires. 

Round the person of the sovereign there was a blaze of 
gold and jewels ; but even in his most splendid palaces 
were to be found the filth and misery of an Irish cabin. 
So late as the year 1663 the gentlemen of the retinue of 
the Earl of Carlisle were, in the city of Moscow, thrust 
into a single bed-room, and were told that, if they did not 
remain together, they would be in danger of being de- 
voured by rats. 

Our ancestors, therefore, were not a little surprised to 
learn that a young barbarian, who had, at seventeen years 
of age, become the autocrat of the immense region 
stretching from the confines of Sweden to those of China, 
and whose education had been inferior to that of an Eng- 
lish farmer or shopman, had planned gigantic improve- 
ments, had learned enough of some languages of West- 
tern Europe to enable him to communicate with civilized 
men, had begun to surround himself with able adven- 
turers from various parts of the world, had sent many 
of his young subjects to study languages, arts, and sci- 
ences in foreign cities, and, finally, had determined to 
travel as a private man, and to discover, by personal 
observation, the secret of the immense prosperity and 
power enjoyed by some communities whose whole terri- 
tory was far less than the hundredth part of his domin- 
ions. 



540 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



His empire was of all empires the least capable of being 
made a great naval power. On the ocean he had only a 
single port — Archangel — and the whole shipping of Arch- 
angel was foreign. There did not exist a Russian vessel 
larger than a fishing-boat. Yet, from some cause, which 
cannot now be traced, he had a taste for maritime pur- 
suits which amounted to a passion, indeed almost to a 
monomania. His imagination was full of sails, yard- 
arms, and rudders. That large mind, equal to the high- 
est duties of the general and the statesman, contracted 
itself to the most minute details of naval architecture and 
naval discipline. The chief ambition of the great con- 
queror and legislator was to be a good boatswain and a 
good ship's carpenter. 

He repaired to Amsterdam, took a lodging in the dock- 
yard, assumed the garb of a pilot, put down his name on 
the list pf the workmen, wielded with his own hand the 
calking-iron and the mallet, fixed the pumps, and twisted 
the ropes. Ambassadors, who came to pay their respects 
to him, were forced, much against their will, to clamber 
up the rigging of a man-of-war, and found him enthroned 
on the cross-trees. 

Such was the prince whom the populace of London 
now crowded to behold. His stately form, his intellectual 
forehead, his piercing black eyes, his Tartar nose and 
mouth, his gracious smile, his frown, black with all the 
stormy rage and hate of a barbarian tyrant, and, above 
all, a strange nervous convulsion which sometimes trans- 
formed his countenance, during a few moments, into an 
object on which it was impossible to look without terror, 
the immense quantities of meat which he devoured, the 
pints of brandy which he swallowed, the fool who jab- 



THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY 541 



bered at his feet, the monkey which grinned at the back 
of his chair, — were, during some weeks, popular topics of 
conversation. 

He, meanwhile, shunned the public gaze with a haughty 
shyness which inflamed curiosity. He went to a play ; 
but, as soon as he perceived that pit, boxes, and galleries 
were staring, not at the play, but at him, he retired to a 
back bench, where he was screened from observation by 
his attendants. He was desirous to see a sitting of the 
House of Lords ; but, as he was determined not to be 
seen, he was forced to climb up to the leads, and peep 
through a small window. 

William judiciously humored the whims of his illus- 
trious guest, and stole to Norfolk Street, so quietly that 
nobody in the neighborhood recognized his majesty in 
the thin gentleman who got out of the modest-looking 
coach at the Czar's lodgings. The Czar returned the 
visit with the same precautions, and was admitted into 
Kensington House by a back door. It was afterwards 
known that he took no notice of the fine pictures with 
which the palace was adorned. But over the chimney 
of the royal sitting-room was a plate Vv^hich, by an in- 
genious machinery, indicated the direction of the wind, 
and with this plate he was in raptures. 

He soon became weary of his residence. He found 
that he was too far from the objects of his curiosity, and 
too near to the crowds to which he was himself an object 
of curiosity. He accordingly removed to Deptford, and 
was there lodged in the house of John Evelyn, a house 
which had long been a favorite resort of men of letters, 
men of taste, and men of science. Here Peter gave him- 
self up to his favorite pursuits. He navigated a yacht 



542 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



every day up and down the river. His apartment was 
crowded with models of three-deckers and two-deckers, 
frigates, sloops, and fireships. 

But Evelyn does not seem to have formed a favorable 
opinion of his august tenant. It was, indeed, not in the 
character of a tenant that the Czar was likely to gain the 
good word of civilized men. With all the high qualities 
which were peculiar to himself, he had all the filthy habits 
which were then common among his countrymen. To the 
end of his life, while disciplining armies, founding 
schools, framing codes, organizing tribunals, building 
cities in deserts, joining distant seas by artificial rivers, 
he lived in his palace like a hog in a sty. Evelyn's house 
was left in such a state that the treasury quieted his com- 
plaints with a considerable sum of money. 

Towards the close of March the Czar visited Ports- 
mouth, saw a sham sea-fight at Spithead, watched every 
movement of the contending fleets with intense interest, 
and expressed in warm terms his gratitude to the hos- 
pitable government which had provided so delightful a 
spectacle for his amusement and instruction. After pass- 
ing more than three months in England, he departed in 
high good humor. 

CRITICISM. 

I. Macaulay excelled as a poet, was brilliant as an 
essayist, but is chiefly illustrious as an historian. His 
style is marked by great originality; it is clear, incisive, 
and brilliant. His language is simple, pithy, and 
idiomatic. His sentences are short, pointed, and anti- 
thetical. No one has to read his sentences twice over to 
find out their meaning. — Blaisdell's American and British 
Authors. 



JOHN RUSKIN 



543 



2. Few authors have written more eloquently of free- 
dom, or paid truer and nobler homage to its advocates 
and martyrs ; and few have opened hotter vials of wrath 
upon bigotry, tyranny, and all forms of legislative fraud. 
—E. P, Whipple. 

REFERENCES. 

Life and Letters, by his nephew. Sir George Trevelyan. 
Essays and Reviews, Whipple. 

QUESTIONS ON MACAULAY. 

1. Write a brief sketch of the life of Macaulay. 

2. For what is he best known? 

3. What do you know of his style? 

4. Name some of his best known essays, two poems, 
a noted historical work. 

5. Name some of Macaulay's literary friends. What 
do Emerson and Carlyle say of Macaulay? 

JOHN RUSKIN. 
1819-1900. 

No one can read Euskin, and mark his enthusiasm, his splendid 
power, his earnestness, his love of truth, his reverence for nature, 
and above all, his love of God, without feeling that he has a 
great mission to fulfill in the world. — J. G. Holland. 

RUSKIN was one of the most eloquent prose writers 
of his time, and also a noted art critic and political 
economist. His principal works are The Stones of 
Venice, Modern Painters, Seven Lamps of Architecture, 
Time and Tide, Unto This Last, and two series of lec- 
tures, Crown of Wild Olive and Sesame and Lilies. The 



544 



STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 



latter is a most helpful and inspiring book for young peo- 
ple, consisting of the three lectures, King's Treasures, 
Queen s Gardens, and The Mystery of Life. His King 
of the Golden River is a popular fairy tale for children. 
Among his best known poems are A W alk in Chamouni, 
The Old Water-Wheel, and The Last Smile. 

John Ruskin was born February 8, 1819, at London. 
His Scottish father was a wealthy wine merchant, who 
chose to live in the utmost simplicity, so that his only 
son might not become enervated by luxury. His wife 
was deeply religious and fully in sympathy with his ideas 
of right training. She had little John read the Bible to 
her and learn whole chapters of its noblest parts. Rus- 
kin attributed to this training his love for beautiful litera- 
ture and his power as a writer. He makes frequent 
alkision to Scripture in all his writings. In the evening 
the father read aloud, and in this way the boy heard 
Shakspere, Scott, Spenser, Byron, Pope, Goldsmith, 
Addison, and all the best writers of his time. His father 
took him to see all the noted and beautiful places in Eng- 
land, thus training his love for the beautiful and adding 
to his store of information. Ruskin says of his home : 
had been taught the perfect meaning of Peace, in 
thought, act, and word. Angry words, hurry, and dis- 
order I never knew in the stillness of my childhood's 
home. Next to this quite priceless gift of Peace, I had 
received the perfect understanding of the natures of 
Obedience and Faith. . . . Nothing was ever prom- 
ised me that was not given, nothing ever threatened me 
that was not inflicted, and nothing ever told me that was 
not true." 

He was prepared for college under the guidance of his 



JOHN RUSKIN 



545 



parents and entered Oxford. The following year, 1839, 
he won the Newgate prize for English poetry by his 
poem on Salsette and Elcphanta. He took his degree in 
1842, and subsequently lived the busy but uneventful life 
of teacher and writer, having been appointed Professor 
of Art at Oxford shortly after his graduation. He made 
a home for himself near Coniston, in the Lake Region, 
made famous by Wordsworth, Coleridge, and others. He 
was very kind to his aged parents, and, when he laid his 
mother to rest in her ninetieth year, wrote on her grave- 
stone: ''Here beside my father's body I have laid my 
mother's; nor was dearer earth ever returned to earth, 
nor purer Hfe recorded in Heaven." 

Probably no writer has ever exerted a more uplifting 
and inspiring influence than Ruskin. In all he published 
between thirty and forty works. Of these Modern Paint- 
ers is perhaps the greatest. Preterita is a charming 
autobiography and also contains excellent suggestions on 
child-training. The good Ruskin accomplished by his 
literary teaching cannot be estimtaed, for he had the 
world for his school. At the time of his death, which 
occurred January 20, 1900, at Brantwood, his country 
home, he was, then in his eighty-second year, the greatest 
living literary character in England. 

SELECTIONS. 

"It is the crowning virtue of all great art that, however 
little is left of it by the injuries of time, that little will 
be lovely." 

'The first duty of a child is to obey its father and 
mother; as the first duty of a citizen is to obey the laws 
of his state. And this duty is so strict that I believe the 




546 STUDIES IN BRITISH LITERATURE 

only limits to it are those fixed by Isaac and Iphigenia. 
On the other hand, the father and mother have also a 
fixed duty to the child — not to provoke it to wrath. I 
have never heard this text explained to fathers and moth- 
ers from the pulpit, which is curious. For it appears to 
me that God will expect the parents to understand their 
duty to their children, better even than children can be 
expected to know their duty to their parents." 

'*No nation can last, which has made a mob of itself, 
however generous at heart. It must discipline its pas- 
sions, and direct them, or they will discipline it, one day, 
with scorpion whips. Above all, a nation cannot last as 
a money-making mob : it cannot with impunity, — it can- 
not with existence, — go on despising literature, despising 
science, despising art, despising nature, despising com- 
passion, and concentrating its soul on Pence." 

''It is only by labor that thought can be made healthy, 
and only by thought that labor can be made happy ; and 
the two cannot be separated with impunity." 

"No ornament is beautiful which has not a use/* 

CRITICISMS. 

I. Eloquence, force, and subtle analysis are the pre- 
vailing characteristics of Ruskin's literary style, while 
his works are at the same time permeated with a lofty 
enthusiasm for truth and beauty, and with a generous 
sympathy for the poor and the weak. — Selected, 

REFERENCES. 

Life and Teachings of John Ruskin, Mather, 
Home Life of Great Authors, Griswold. 
Scenes of My Past Life, and Sesame and Lilies, 
Ruskin. 



JOHN RUSKIN 



547 



QUESTIONS ON RUSKIN. 

1. Tell the story of Ruskin's life. 

2. Name his principal works. 

3. Name a noted writing for young people. A well- 
known book for children. 

4. Tell of Ruskin's early training. 

5. Which of his books is descriptive of his early life? 

6. What do you know of Ruskin as a teacher of man- 
kind? 

7. What does J. G. Holland say of him? 

8. Quote some noble passages from Sesame and 
Lilies, 



INDEX. 



Abt Vogler, Lines from — Poem R. Browning 427 

Addison, Joseph — Biography, 517; Selections, 519; 

Criticisms, 525 ; References, 525 ; Questions on. . 525 
Alcott, Louisa May — Biography, 295 ; Suggested 

Reading, 300; Questions on 300 

Among the Rocks — Poem R. Browning 426 

Bacon, Francis — Summary, 513; Selections, 513; 

Criticisms, 514; References 514 

Bancroft, George — Biography 340 

Battle Hymn of the RepubHc — Poem. .J. W. Howe 275 

Battle of Ivry, The — Poem T. B. Macaulay 533 

Battle of Waterloo, The — Poem Byron 406 

Beecher, Henry Ward — Outline Biography, 311; 

Selections 312 

Betsy and I Are Out — Poem W. Carleton 198 

Bill and Joe — Poem O. W. Holmes 131 

Browne, Charles Farrar (Artemus Ward) — Biog- 
raphy 351 

Browning, Elizabeth Barrett — Biography, 412; Se- 
lections, 414; Partial List of Best Poems, 415; 
Criticisms, 418; References, 418; Questions on. . 419 
Browning, Robert — Biography, 419; Selections, 
422 ; Criticisms, 423 ; References, 424 ; Questions 

on 422 

549 



550 



INDEX 



Bryant, William CuUen — Biography, 85 ; Selections, 
94 ; Partial List of Poems, 95 ; Notes on Writ- 
ings, 96; Suggested Reading, 106; Criticisms, 
106; References, 107; Poets' Tributes, 108; 
Questions on 108 

Builders, The — Poem H. W. Longfellow 28 

Burns, Robert — Biography, 380 ; Selections, 385 ; 
List of Best Poems, 386; Songs, 386; Questions 
on 390 

Byron, George Gordon — Biography, 403 ; Selec- 
tions, 405 ; Familiar Lines, 406 ; List of Best 
Poems, 406; References, 411 ; Questions on 411 

Campbell, Thomas — Summary, 457; Selections... 458 
Capture of a Whale — From The Pilot.]. F. Cooper 214 
Carleton, Will — Biography, 193 ; Selections, 196 ; 
Partial List of Poems, 198; Suggested Reading, 

202 ; Questions on , 203 

Carlyle, Thomas — Summary, 529; Selections, 530; 

Familiar Lines, 530; Criticisms, 530; References 531 
Cary, Alice and Phoebe — Biography, 283 ; Selec- 
tions 288 

Chaucer, Geoffrey — Summary, 439 ; Criticisms .... 440 
Child's Thought of God, A — Poem.E.. B. Browning 415 
Clemens, Samuel Langhorne (Mark Twain) — Bi- 
ography, 358 ; Questions on 364 

Coleridge, Samuel T. — Summary, 453; Selections. 454 
Cooper, James Fenimore — Biography, 207; Partial 
List of Works, 213 ; Plan of Study for The Last 

of the Mohicans, 213; Questions on 220 

Cowper, William — Summary, 451 ; Selections, 452; 
References 453 



INDEX 



551 



Daffodils — Poem W. Wordsworth 400 

Description of a Siege — From Ivanhoe . . . W. Scott 479 
Dickens, Charles — Biography, 491 ; Questions on 
The Cricket on the Hearth, 498 ; Questions on 
David Copperfield, 499; References, 500; Ques- 
tions on 500 

Draft in Baldinsville Artemus Ward 355 

Dryden, John — Summary, 515 ; Selections, 515 ; Fa- 
miliar Lines, 516; Criticisms, 516; References. . . 516 
Dutch Governor, A — From Knickerbocker's His- 
tory W. Irving 228 

Eggleston, Edward — Outline Biography, 330; Sug- 
gested Reading 331 

Emerson, Ralph Waldo — Biography, 109; Selec- 
tions, 114; Suggested Reading, 117; References, 
118; Poets' Tributes, 119; Questions on 119 

Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard — Poem 
T. Gray 446 

EHot, George — See Evans, M. A. 

Evans, Mary Ann (George Eliot) — Biography, 
505; Selections, 507; Questions on The Mill on 
the Floss, 508 ; References, 509 ; Questions on . . . 509 

Field, Eugene — Biography, 184; Selections, 190; 

Partial List of Poems, 192; References, 192; 

Questions 193 

First Snow Fall, The— Poem J. R. Lowell 77 

Footsteps of Angels — Poem. . . .H. W. .Longfellow 29 

Gladness of Nature — Poem W. C. Bryant 97 

Goldsmith, Oliver — Biography, 469; References, 

470; Selections 471 

Gray, Thomas — Summary 445 



552 



INDEX 



Hale, Edward Everett — Outline Biography, 321 ; 

Criticisms, 322; Suggested Reading.... 323 

Hannah Binding Shoes — Poem L. Larcom 280 

Harte, Bret — Outline Biography, 333; Suggested 

Reading 335 

Hawthorne, Nathaniel — Biography, 235 ; Partial 
List of Works, 243 ; Suggested Reading, 252 ; 
Criticisms, 252; References, 253; Questions on. . 253 

Heritage, The — Poem J. R. Lowell 79 

Highland Mary — Poem R. Burns 387 

Holland, Josiah Gilbert — Outline Biography, 316; 
Selections, 317; Suggested Reading, 318; Crit- 
icisms 318 

Holmes, OHver Wendell — Biography, 119; Selec- 
tions, 125; Notes on Writings, 128; Partial List 
of Works, 128; Suggested Reading, 135; Refer- 
ences, 136; Poets' Tributes, 137; Questions on. . 137 
Hood, Thomas — Summary, 463 ; Selections, 464 ; 

References 464 

Howe, Julia Ward — Biography, 271 ; Partial List 

of Writings, 274; Questions on 274 

Howells, William Dean — Outline Biography, 331 ; 

Suggested Reading 333 

How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to 

Aix — Poem R. Browning 424 

Humorous Writers 349 

Inch Cape Rock — Poem. R. Southey 454 

Ingelow, Jean — Summary, 464 ; Selections 464 

Intimations of Immortality — Poem.W. Wordsworth 396 
Irving, Washington — Biography, 221 ; Partial List 
of Works, 227; Suggested Reading, 234; Refer- 
ences 235 



INDEX 



553 



Jackson, Helen Hunt — Biography, 301 ; Partial List 
of Writings, 304; Questions on 306 

Johnson, Samuel — Summary, 526; Selections, 526; 
Criticisms, 527; References 527 

Keats, John — Summary, 462 ; References, 462 ; Se- 
lections 462 

King Canute — Poem W. M. Thackeray 487 

King Solomon and the Ants — Poem.]. G. Whittier 50 

Lady Clare — Poem A.Tennyson 431 

Lamb, Charles — Summary, 527; Selections, 528; 

References 528 

Larcom, Lucy — Biography, 276 ; Selections, 279 ; 

Suggested Reading, 280 ; Questions on 282 

Last Leaf, The — Poem O. W. Holmes 133 

Laughing Chorus, A — Poem R. W. Emerson 115 

Lenore — Poem .E. A. Poe 148 

List of Books for Reference 368 

Little Evangelist, The — From Uncle Tom's Cabin 

^ . . . .H B. Stowe 264 

Lochinvar — Poem , W. Scott 478 

Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth — Biography, 3 ; Se- 
lections, 12; Partial List of Works, 14; Sug- 
gested Reading, 31; Study of Evangeline, 32; 
Criticisms, 36; References, 38; Poets' Tributes, 

38 ; Questions on 38 

Lord Ullin's Daughter — Poem T. Campbell 458 

Lowell, James Russell — Biography, 65 ; Selections, 
74 ; Partial List of Writings, 76 ; Notes for Writ- 
ings, 76; Suggested Reading, 82; Study of the 
Vision of Sir Launfal, 82 ; Criticisms, 82 ; Refer- 
ences, 84 ; Poets' Tributes, 84 ; Questions on ... . 85 




554 INDEX 

Macaulay, Thomas Babington — Summary, 531 ; Se- 
lections, 533 ; Criticisms, 542 ; References, 543 ; 
Questions on 543 

Mann, Horace — Outline Biography, 309; Refer- 
ences 310 

Miller Joaquin — Biography, 177; Criticisms, 183; 
Questions on 183 

Milton, John — Summary, 442 ; Selections, 443 ; Ref- 
erences 443 

Moore, Thomas — Summary, 460; References, 460; 
Selections 460 

Motley, John Lothrop — Biography 342 

Mountain and Squirrel — Poem. . . .R. W. Emerson 114 

Mr. Winkle on Skates — From Pickwick Papers 
C. Dickens 494 

Nearer Home — Poem P. Cary 294 

Norman Baron, The — Poem. . . .H. W. Longfellow 22 

Nye, Bill — See Nye, Edgar Wilson. 

Nye, Edgar Wilson {Bill Nye) — Biography 365 

Order for a Picture, An — Poem A. Cary 291 

October's Bright Blue Weather — Poem 

H. H. Jackson 304 

Parkman, Francis — Biography 344 

Peter the Great T. B. Macaulay 537 

Planting the Apple Tree — Poem W. C. Bryant 104 

Poe, Edgar Allan — Biography, 139; Partial List of 
Works, 148; Suggested Reading, 158; Criticisms, 

158; References, 160; Questions on 160 

Pope, Alexander — Summary, 443 ; Selections, 444 ; 

FamiHar Lines, 445; References 445 

Prescott, William Hickling — Biography 338 



INDEX 



555 



Rabbi Ben Ezra (lines from) — Poem.R. Browning 428 

Raven, The — Poem E. A. Poe 151 

Read, Thomas Buchanan — Outline Biography, 319; 

Selections, 319; Suggested Reading 321 

Riley, James Whitcomb — Biography, 165 ; Selec- 
tions, 169; Partial List of Poems, 171 ; Suggested 

Reading, 176 ; Questions on 176 

Rill from the Town Pump, A. ...... N. Hawthorne 244 

Robert of Lincoln — Poem W. C. Bryant 98 

Roniancin' — Poem J. W. Riley 173 

Ruskin, John — Biography, 543 ; Selections, 545 ; 

Criticisms, 546; References, 546; Questions on. . 547 



Shakspere, William — Biography, 371 ; Selections, 
375 i Suggested Reading, 376 ; Criticisms, 378 ; 

References, 379; Questions on 379 

Scott, Walter — Biography, 472 ; Selections, 477 ; 
Familiar Lines, 477 ; References, 484 ; Questions 

on 485 

Seven Times One — Poem .J. Ingelow 464 

Shelley, Percy Bysshe — Summary, 461 ; References, 

461; Selections 461 

Skipper Ireson's Ride — Poem J. G. Whittier 55 

Sleep — Poem E. B. Browning 416 

Spencer, Edmund — Summary, 441 ; References. . . . 441 
Stowe, Harriet Beecher — Biography, 257; Partial 
List of Works, 263 ; References, 264 ; Questions 

on 264 

Southey, Robert — Summary, 454; References 454 



Taking the Luck with Him — From The Luck of the 
Roaring Camp B. Harte 336 



556 



INDEX 



Taylor, Bayard — Biography, 323 ; Selections, 325 ; 
Suggested Reading, 326 ; Criticisms, 326 ; Refer- 
ences 328 

Tennyson, Alfred — Biography, 428; Selections, 
431 ; Criticisms, 435 ; References, 435 ; Questions 
on 435 

Thackeray, William Makepeace — Biography, 485; 
References, 491; Questions on 491 

Thanatopsis — Poem W. C. Bryant loi 

Thoreau, Henry D. — Outline Biography, 313; Se- 
lections, 314; Criticisms, 315; References 316 

To a Mountain Daisy — Poem R. Burns 388 

Trollope, Anthony — Biography, 501 ; Suggested 
Reading, 504 ; Questions on 504 

Tribute to Columbus, A — Poem J. Miller 181 

Twain, Mark — See Clemens, S. L. 

Uncle DanTs Apparition — From The Gilded Age 

Mark Twain 360 

Vision of Belshazzar, The — Poem Byron 409 

Vision of Mirza Addison 519 

Wallace, Lewis — Outline Biography, 328; Sug- 
gested Reading 3^9 

Ward, Artemus — See Browne, C. F. 

What Little Saul Got Christmas — Poem 

J. W. Riley 171 

Whittier, John Greenleaf — Biography, 39; Selec- 
tions, 45 ; Partial List of Works, 47 ; Notes on 
Writings, 47; Study of School Days, 52; Crit- 
icisms, 61; References, 63; Poets' Tributes, 63 ; 
Questions on 64 



INDEX 



557 



Wind Over the Chimney, The — Poem. . . .B. Harte 335 

Wild Cow, The Bill Nye 367 

Wordsworth, William — Biography, 390; Selections, 
394; Familiar Lines, 395 ; Criticisms, 401 ; Refer- 
ences, 402; Questions on 402 

World, The — Sonnet W. Wordsworth 401 

Wreck of the Hesperus, The — Poem 

H. W. Longfellow 18 

Yankee Girl, The — Poem J. G. Whittier 53 



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